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CANTERBURY  PILGRIMS 
From  Royal  MS.,  18  DM,  in  the  British  Museum 


ENGLISH    LITERATURE 

ITS  HISTORY  AND  ITS  SIGNIFICANCE 
FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  ENGLISH- 
SPEAKING  WORLD 


A  TEXT-BOOK  FOR  SCHOOLS 

BY 
WILLIAM  J.  LONG 


GINN  AND  COMPANY 

BOSTON     •     NEW  YORK     •     CHICAGO     -     LONDON 
ATLANTA     •     DALLAS     •     COLUMBUS     •    SAN  FRANCISCO 


COPYRIGHT,  1909,  1919,  BY  WILLIAM  J.  LONG 

ENTERED  AT  STATIONERS'  HALL 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 

PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED   STATES   OF  AMERICA 
A833.5 


gfte  fltfretttttttn  35 r egg 

GINN  AND  COMPANY  •  PRO- 
PRIETORS •  BOSTON  •  U.S.A. 


TO 
MY  FRIEND 

C-H-T 

IN  GRATITUDE  FOR 

HIS  CONTINUED  HELP  IN  THE 

PREPARATION  OF 

THIS  BOOK 


\ 


PREFACE 

This  book,  which  presents  the  whole  splendid  history  of 
English  literature  from  Anglo-Saxon  times  to  the  close  of  the 
Victorian  Era,  has  three  specific  aims.  The  first  is  to  create  or 
to  encourage  in  every  student  the  desire  to  read  the  best  books, 
and  to  know  literature  itself  rather  than  what  has  been  written 
about  literature.  The  second  is  to  interpret  literature  both  per- 
sonally and  historically,  that  is,  to  show  how  a  great  book  gen- 
erally reflects  not  only  the  author's  life  and  thought  but  also  the 
spirit  of  the  age  and  the  ideals  of  the  nation's  history.  The 
third  aim  is  to  show,  by  a  study  of  each  successive  period,  how 
our  literature  has  steadily  developed  from  its  first  simple  songs 
and  stories  to  its  present  complexity  in  prose  and  poetry. 

To  carry  out  these  aims  we  have  introduced  the  following 
features  : 

(1)  A  brief,  accurate  summary  of  historical  events  and  social 
conditions  in  each  period,  and  a  consideration  of  the  ideals 
which  stirred  the  whole  nation,  as  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth, 
before  they  found  expression  in  literature. 

(2)  A  study  of  the  various  literary  epochs  in  turn,  showing 
what  each  gained  from  the  epoch  preceding,  and  how  each  aided 
in  the  development  of  a  national  literature. 

(3)  A  readable  biography  of  every  important  writer,  showing 
how  he  lived  and  worked,  how  he  met  success  or  failure,  how 
he  influenced  his  age,  and  how  his  age  influenced  him. 

(4)  A  study  and  analysis  of  every  author's  best  works,  and  of 
many  of  the  books  required  for  college-entrance  examinations. 

(5)  Selections  enough  —  especially  from  earlier  writers,  and 
from  writers  not  likely  to  be  found  in  the  home  or  school  library 


vi  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

—  to  indicate  the  spirit  of  each  author's  work ;  and  directions 
as  to  the  best  works  to  read,  and  where  such  works  may  be 
found  in  inexpensive  editions. 

(6)  A  frank,  untechnical  discussion  of  each  great  writer's 
work  as  a  whole,  and  a  critical  estimate  of  his  relative  place 
and  influence  in  our  literature. 

(7)  A  series  of  helps  to  students  and  teachers  at  the  end  of 
each  chapter,  including  summaries,  selections  for  reading,  bibliog- 
raphies, a  list  of  suggestive  questions,  and  a  chronological  table  of 
important  events  in  the  history  and  literature  of  each  period. 

(8)  Throughout    this    book    we    have    remembered    Roger 
Ascham's  suggestion,  made  over  three  centuries  ago  and  still 
pertinent,  that  "'tis  a  poor  way  to  make  a  child  love  study  by 
beginning  with  the  things  which  he  naturally  dislikes."    We 
have  laid  emphasis  upon  the  delights  of  literature ;  we  have 
treated  books  not  as  mere  instruments  of  research  —  which  is 
the  danger  in  most  of  our  studies  —  but  rather  as  instruments 
of  enjoyment  and  of  inspiration ;  and  by  making  our  study  as 
attractive  as  possible  we  have  sought  to  encourage  the  student 
to  read  widely  for  himself,  to  choose  the  best  books,  and  to 
form   his  own   judgment  about  what   our   first   Anglo-Saxon 
writers  called  "the  things  worthy  to  be  remembered." 

To  those  who  may  use  this  book  in  their  homes  or  in  their 
class  rooms,  the  writer  ventures  to  offer  one  or  two  friendly  sug- 
gestions out  of  his  own  experience  as  a  teacher  of  young  people. 
First,  the  amount  of  space  here  given  to  different  periods  and 
authors  is  not  an  index  of  the  relative  amount  of  time  to  be 
spent  upon  the  different  subjects.  Thus,  to  tell  the  story  of 
Spenser's  life  and  ideals  requires  as  much  space  as  to  tell  the 
story  of  Tennyson ;  but  the  average  class  will  spend  its  time 
more  pleasantly  and  profitably  with  the  latter  poet  than  with 
the  former.  Second,  many  authors  who  are  and  ought  to  be 
included  in  this  history  need  not  be  studied  in  the  class  room. 


PREFACE  vii 

A  text-book  is  not  a  catechism  but  a  storehouse,  in  which  one 
finds  what  he  wants,  and  some  good  things  beside.  Few  classes 
will  find  time  to  study  Blake  or  Newman,  for  instance ;  but 
in  nearly  every  class  there  will  be  found  one  or  two  students 
who  are  attracted  by  the  mysticism  of  Blake  or  by  the  profound 
spirituality  of  Newman.  Such  students  should  be  encouraged  to 
follow  their  own  spirits,  and  to  share  with  their  classmates  the 
joy  of  their  discoveries.  And  they  should  find  in  their  text-book 
the  material  for  their  own  study  and  reading. 

A  third  suggestion  relates  to  the  method  of  teaching  litera- 
ture ;  and  here  it  might  be  well  to  consider  the  word  of  a  great 
poet,  —  that  if  you  would  know  where  the  ripest  cherries  are, 
ask  the  boys  and  the  blackbirds.  It  is  surprising  how  much  a 
young  person  will  get  out  of  the  Merchant  of  Venice,  and  some- 
how arrive  at  Shakespeare's  opinion  of  Shylock  and  Portia,  if 
we  do  not  bother  him  too  much  with  notes  and  critical  direc- 
tions as  to  what  he  ought  to  seek  and  find.  Turn  a  child  and  a 
donkey  loose  in  the  same  field,  and  the  child  heads  straight  for 
the  beautiful  spots  where  brooks  are  running  and  birds  singing, 
while  the  donkey  turns  as  naturally  to  weeds  and  thistles.  In 
our  study  of  literature  we  have  perhaps  too  much  sympathy 
with  the  latter,  and  we  even  insist  that  the  child  come  back 
from  his  own  quest  of  the  ideal  to  join  us  in  our  critical  com- 
panionship. In  reading  many  text-books  of  late,  and  in  visiting 
many  class  rooms,  the  writer  has  received  the  impression  that  we 
lay  too  much  stress  on  second-hand  criticism,  passed  down  from 
book  to  book  ;  and  we  set  our  pupils  to  searching  for  figures  of 
speech  and  elements  of  style,  as  if  the  great  books  of  the  world 
were  subject  to  chemical  analysis.  This  seems  to  be  a  mistake, 
for  two  reasons  :  first,  the  average  young  person  has  no  natural 
interest  in  such  matters  ;  and  second,  he  is  unable  to  appreciate 
them.  He  feels  unconsciously  with  Chaucer : 

And  as  for  me,  though  that  my  wit  be  lyte, 
On  booke's  for  to  rede  I  me  delyte. 


viii  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Indeed,  many  mature  persons  (including  the  writer  of  this  history) 
are  often  unable  to  explain  at  first  the  charm  or  the  style  of  an 
author  who  pleases  them  ;  and  the  more  profound  the  impression 
made  by  a  book,  the  more  difficult  it  is  to  give  expression  to  our 
thought  and  feeling.  To  read  and  enjoy  good  books  is  with  us, 
as  with  Chaucer,  the  main  thing ;  to  analyze  the  author's  style  or 
explain  our  own  enjoyment  seems  of  secondary  and  small  impor- 
tance. However  that  may  be,  we  state  frankly  our  own  conviction 
that  the  detailed  study  and  analysis  of  a  few  standard  works  — 
which  is  the  only  literary  pabulum  given  to  many  young  people  in 
our  schools  —  bears  the  same  relation  to  true  literature  that  theol- 
ogy bears  to  religion,  or  psychology  to  friendship.  One  is  a  more 
or  less  unwelcome  mental  'discipline  ;  the  other  is  the  joy  of  life. 
The  writer  ventures  to  suggest,  therefore,  that,  since  litera- 
ture is  our  subject,  we  begin  and  end  with  good  books  ;  and  that 
we  stand  aside  while  the  great  writers  speak  their  own  message 
to  our  pupils.  In  studying  each  successive  period,  let  the  stu- 
dent begin  by  reading  the  best  that  the  age  produced  ;  let  him 
feel  in  his  own  way  the  power  and  mystery  of  Beowulf,  the 
broad  charity  of  Shakespeare,  the  sublimity  of  Milton,  the  ro- 
mantic enthusiasm  of  Scott ;  and  then,  when  his  own  taste  is 
pleased  and  satisfied,  a  new  one  will  arise,  —  to  know  some- 
thing about  the  author,  the  times  in  which  he  lived,  and  finally 
of  criticism,  which,  in  its  simplicity,  is  the  discovery  that  the  men 
and  women  of  other  ages  were  very  much  like  ourselves,  loving  as 
we  love,  bearing  the  same  burdens,  and  following  the  same  ideals  : 

Lo,  with  the  ancient 
Roots  of  man's  nature 
Twines  the  eternal 
Passion  of  song. 

Ever  Love  fans  it ; 
Ever  Life  feeds  it ; 
Time  cannot  age  it ; 
Death  cannot  slay. 


PREFACE  ix 

To  answer  the  questions  which  arise  naturally  between  teacher 
and  pupil  concerning  the  books  that  they  read,  is  one  object  of 
this  volume.  It  aims  not  simply  to  instruct  but  also  to  inspire  ; 
to  trace  the  historical  development  of  English  literature,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  allure  its  readers  to  the  best  books  and  the 
best  writers.  And  from  beginning  to  end  it  is  written  upon  the 
assumption  that  the  first  virtue  of  such  a  work  is  to  be  accurate, 
and  the  second  to  be  interesting. 

The  author  acknowledges,  with  gratitude  and  appreciation, 
his  indebtedness  to  Professor  William  Lyon  Phelps  for  the 
use  of  his  literary  map  of  England,  and  to  the  keen  critics, 
teachers  of  literature  and  history,  who  have  read  the  proofs  of 
this  book,  and  have  improved  it  by  their  good  suggestions. 

WILLIAM  J.  LONG 
STAMFORD,  CONNECTICUT 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  I.  INTRODUCTION  — THE  MEANING  OF 
LITERATURE I 

The  Shell  and  the  Book.  Qualities  of  Literature.  Tests  of  Literature. 
The  Object  in  studying  Literature.  Importance  of  Literature.  Sum- 
mary of  the  Subject.  Bibliography. 

CHAPTER  II.  THE  ANGLO-SAXON  OR  OLD-ENGLISH 
PERIOD 10 

Our  First  Poetry.  "Beowulf."  "  Widsith."  "  Deor's  Lament."  "The 
Seafarer."  "The  Fight  at  Finnsburgh."  "  Waldere."  Anglo-Saxon 
Life.  Our  First  Speech.  Christian  Writers.  Northumbrian  Literature. 
Bede.  Caedmon.  Cynewulf.  Decline  of  Northumbrian  Literature. 
Alfred.  Summary.  Bibliography.  Questions.  Chronology. 

CHAPTER  III.    THE  ANGLO-NORMAN  PERIOD  .       46 

The  Normans.  The  Conquest.  Literary  Ideals  of  the  Normans.  Geoffrey 
of  Monmouth.  Work  of  the  French  Waiters.  Layamon's  "  Brut." 
Metrical  Romances.  The  Pearl.  Miscellaneous  Literature  of  the  Nor- 
man Period.  Summary.  Bibliography.  Questions.  Chronology. 

CHAPTER  IV.  THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER.    ...   67 

History  of  the  Period.  Five  Writers  of  the  Age.  Chaucer.  Langland. 
"  Piers  Plowman."  John  Wyclif.  John  Mandeville.  Summary.  Bibli- 
ography. Questions.  Chronology. 

CHAPTER  V.    THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING.       .         .       89 

Political  Changes.  Literature  of  the  Revival.  Wyatt  and  Surrey.  Malory's 
"  Morte  d' Arthur."  Summary.  Bibliography.  Questions.  Chronology. 

CHAPTER  VI.    THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH.       ...       99 

Political  Summary.  Characteristics  of  the  Elizabethan  Age.  The  Non- 
Dramatic  Poets.  Edmund  Spenser.  Minor  Poets.  Thomas  Sackville. 
Philip  Sidney.  George  Chapman.  Michael  Dray  ton.  The  Origin  of 
the  Drama.  The  Religious  Period  of  the  Drama.  Miracle  and  Mystery 
Plays.  The  Moral  Period  of  the  Drama.  The  Interludes.  The  Artistic 
Period  of  the  Drama.  Classical  Influence  upon  the  Drama.  Shake- 
speare's Predecessors  in  the  Drama.  Christopher  Marlowe.  Shakespeare. 


CONTENTS  xi 

PAGE 

Decline  of  the  Drama.  Shakespeare's  Contemporaries  and  Successors. 
Ben  Jonson.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher.  John  Webster.  Thomas  Middle- 
ton.  Thomas  Heywood.  Thomas  Dekker.  Massinger.  Ford.  Shirley. 
Prose  Writers.  Francis  Bacon.  Richard  Hooker.  Sidney.  Raleigh. 
John  Foxe.  Camden  and  Knox.  Hakluyt  and  Purchas.  Thomas  North. 
Summary.  Bibliography.  Questions.  Chronology. 

CHAPTER  VII.   THE  PURITAN  AGE  .       .         .         .         .186 

The  Puritan  Movement.  Changing  Ideals.  Literary  Characteristics. 
The  Transition  Poets.  Samuel  Daniel.  The  Song  Writers.  The  Spen- 
serian Poets.  The  Metaphysical  Poets.  John  Donne.  George  Herbert. 
The  Cavalier  Poets.  Thomas  Carew.  Robert  Herrick.  Suckling  and 
Lovelace.  John  Milton.  The  Prose  Writers.  John  Bunyan.  Robert  Bur- 
ton. Thomas  Browne.  Thomas  Fuller.  Jeremy  Taylor.  Richard  Baxter. 
Izaak  Walton.  Summary.  Bibliography.  Questions.  Chronology. 

CHAPTER  VIII.    PERIOD  OF  THE  RESTORATION  236 

History  of  the  Period.  Literary  Characteristics.  John  Dryden.  Samuel 
Butler.  Hobbes  and  Locke.  Evelyn  and  Pepys.  Summary.  Bibliography. 
Questions.  Chronology. 

CHAPTER  IX.  EIGHTEENTH  -  CENTURY  LITERA- 
TURE   258 

History  of  the  Period.  Literary  Characteristics.  The  Classic  Age. 
Alexander  Pope.  Jonathan  Swift.  Joseph  Addison.  w  The  Tatler  "  and 
"The  Spectator."  Samuel  Johnson.  Boswell's  <<  Life  of  Johnson."  Later 
Augustan  Writers.  Edmund  Burke.  Edward  Gibbon.  The  Revival  of 
Romantic  Poetry.  Thomas  Gray.  Oliver  Goldsmith.  William  Cowper. 
Robert  Burns.  William  Blake.  The  Minor  Poets  of  the  Romantic 
Revival.  James  Thomson.  William  Collins.  George  Crabbe.  James 
Macpherson.  Thomas  Chatterton.  Thomas  Percy.  The  First  English 
Novelists.  Meaning  of  the  Novel.  Precursors  of  the  Novel.  Discovery 
of  the  Modern  Novel.  Daniel  Defoe.  Samuel  Richardson.  Henry 
Fielding.  Smollett  and  Sterne.  Summary.  Bibliography.  Questions. 
Chronology. 

CHAPTER  X.    THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  .         .         .369 

Historical  Summary.  Literary  Characteristics  of  the  Age.  The  Poets 
of  Romanticism.  William  Wordsworth.  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge. 
Robert  Southey.  Walter  Scott.  Byron.  Percy  Bysshe  Shelley.  John 
Keats.  Prose  Writers  of  the  Romantic  Period.  Charles  Lamb.  Thomas 
De  Quincey.  Jane  Austen.  Walter  Savage  Landor.  Summary.  Bibliog- 
raphy. Questions.  Chronology. 


xii  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  XI.    THE  VICTORIAN  AGE         .         .         .         .452 

Historical  Summary.  Literary  Characteristics.  Poets  of  the  Victorian 
Age.  Alfred  Tennyson.  Robert  Browning.  Minor  Poets  of  the  Victorian 
Age.  Elizabeth  Barrett.  Rossetti.  Morris.  Swinburne.  Novelists  of 
the  Victorian  Age.  Charles  Dickens.  William  Makepeace  Thackeray. 
George  Eliot.  Minor  Novelists  of  the  Victorian  Age.  Charles  Reade. 
Anthony  Trollope.  Charlotte  Bronte.  Bulwer  Lytton.  Charles  Kingsley. 
Mrs.  Gaskell.  Blackmore.  Meredith.  Hardy.  Stevenson.  Essayists 
of  the  Victorian  Age.  Macaulay.  Carlyle.  Ruskin.  Matthew  Arnold. 
Newman.  The  Spirit  of  Modern  Literature.  Summary.  Bibliography. 
Questions.  Chronology. 

CHAPTER  XII.   AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE       569 

Rudyard  Kipling.  Some  Modern  Novelists.  The  Realists.  The  Modern 
Romance.  The  Poets.  Poetry  of  Everyday  Life.  The  Symbolists.  The 
Celtic  Revival.  Books  of  Many  Kinds.  Books  of  the  War.  Bibliography. 

GENERAL  BIBLIOGRAPHY 595 

INDEX 599 


FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

CANTERBURY  PILGRIMS Frontispiece 

From  Royal  MS.,  18  D.ii,  in  the  British  Museum 


LITERARY   MAP   OF   ENGLAND 


THE   MANUSCRIPT    BOOK 30 

After  the  painting  in  the  Congressional  Library,  by  John  W.  Alexander 

GEOFFREY    CHAUCER     68 

After  the  Rawlinson  Pastel  Portrait  in  the  Bodleian  Library,  Oxford 
PORTIA 150 

After  the  portrait  by  John  Everett  Millais.    Property  of  the  Metropolitan 
Museum  of  Art 

AMERICAN    MEMORIAL   WINDOW,   STRATFORD 155 

EDMUND    BURKE        298 

From  an  old  print 

ALFRED   TENNYSON        458 

After  the  portrait  by  George  Frederic  Watts 

SIR   GALAHAD 465 

After  the  painting  by  George  Frederic  Watts 

CHARLES    DICKENS 488 

After  the  portrait  by  Daniel  Maclise 

THOMAS    CARLYLE    528 

After  the  portrait  by  James  McNeil!  Whistler 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

A   PAGE   FROM   THE    MANUSCRIPT    OF    BEOWULF 19 

STONEHENGE,   ON    SALISBURY   PLAIN 28 

INITIAL  LETTER   OF   A  MS.  COPY   OF   ST.  LUKE'S    GOSPEL         ...       3! 
RUINS    AT   WHITBY 32 

OEDMON  CROSS  AT  WHITBY  ABBEY 39 

LEIF  ERICSON'S  VESSEL 47 

CANTERBURY  CATHEDRAL  AS  IT  WAS  COMPLETED  LONG  AFTER 

THE  CONQUEST 50 

REMAINS   OF   THE    SCRIPTORIUM    OF   FOUNTAINS   ABBEY    ....       62 

TABARD  INN 75 

JOHN  WYCLIF .84 

SPECIMEN  OF  CAXTON'S  PRINTING  IN  THE  YEAR  1486    ....    90 

EDMUND   SPENSER IO2 

WILLIAM    SHAKESPEARE          138 

ANNE   HATHAWAY   COTTAGE 142 

BIRTHPLACE   OF    SHAKESPEARE 145 

TRINITY   CHURCH,   STRATFORD-ON-AVON 147 

BEN   JONSON 158 

JOHN    MILTON 204 

JOHN    BUNYAN 219 

LIBRARY    AT   TRINITY    COLLEGE,  CAMBRIDGE 244 

WESTMINSTER 249 

JONATHAN    SWIFT 270 

TRINITY   COLLEGE,   DUBLIN          272 

JOSEPH    ADDISON 278 

SAMUEL   JOHNSON  287 

THOMAS    GRAY 308 

CHURCH    AT   STOKE   POGES 3°9 

xiv 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE  xv 

PAGE 

OLIVER   GOLDSMITH 31  I 

WILLIAM    COWPER 317 

ROBERT    BURNS    321 

BIRTHPLACE   OF   BURNS 323 

THE   AULD   BRIG,  AYR  (AYR   BRIDGE) 327 

DANIEL  DEFOE 346 

WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 376 

WORDSWORTH'S  HOME  AT  RYDAL  MOUNT 381 

SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 388 

ROBERT  SOUTHEY  394 

WALTER   SCOTT   397 

ABBOTSFORD 399 

GEORGE  GORDON,  LORD  BYRON     407 

PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 41  I 

CHARLES  LAMB       427 

CHRIST'S  HOSPITAL,  LONDON 428 

THOMAS  DE  QUINCEY 433 

ROBERT  BROWNING 470 

MRS.  BROWNING 483 

WILLIAM  MAKEPEACE  THACKERAY 498 

GEORGE  ELIOT 506 

THOMAS  BABINGTON  MACAULAY 522 

UNIVERSITY  OF  EDINBURGH 528 

JOHN  RUSKIN 539 

QUADRANGLE  OF  ORIEL  COLLEGE,  OXFORD 553 


ENGLISH   LITERATURE 

CHAPTER  I 
INTRODUCTION  — THE  MEANING  OF  LITERATURE 

Hold  the  hye  wey,  and  lat  thy  gost  thee  lede. 

Chaucer's  Truth 

On,  on,  you  noblest  English,  .  .  . 

Follow  your  spirit.  Shakespeare's  Henry  V 

The  Shell  and  the  Book.  A  child  and  a  man  were  one  day 
walking  on  the  seashore  when  the  child  found  a  little  shell 
and  held  it  to  his  ear.  Suddenly  he  heard  sounds,  —  strange, 
low,  melodious  sounds,  as  if  the  shell  were  remembering  and 
repeating  to  itself  the  murmurs  of  its  ocean  home.  The  child's 
face  filled  with  wonder  as  he  listened.  Here  in  the  little  shell, 
apparently,  was  a  voice  from  another  world,  and  he  listened 
with  delight  to  its  mystery  and  music.  Then  came  the  man, 
explaining  that  the  child  heard  nothing  strange ;  that  the 
pearly  curves  of  the  shell  simply  caught  a  multitude  of  sounds 
too  faint  for  human  ears,  and  filled  the  glimmering  hollows 
with  the  murmur  of  innumerable  echoes.  It  was  not  a  new 
world,  but  only  the  unnoticed  harmony  of  the  old  that  had 
aroused  the  child's  wonder. 

Some  such  experience  as  this  awaits  us  when  we  begin  the 
study  of  literature,  which  has  always  two  aspects,  one  of 
simple  enjoyment  and  appreciation,  the  other  of  analysis  and 
exact  description.  Let  a  little  song  appeal  to  the  ear,  or  a 
noble  book  to  the  heart,  and  for  the  moment,  at  least,  we  dis- 
cover a  new  world,  a  world  so  different  from  our  own  that  it 


2  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

seems  a  place  of  dreams  and  magic.  To  enter  and  enjoy  this 
new  world,  to  love  good  books  for  their  own  sake,  is  the  chief 
thing ;  to  analyze  and  explain  them  is  a  less  joyous  but  still 
an  important  matter.  Behind  every  book  is  a  man  ;  behind 
the  man  is  the  race ;  and  behind  the  race  are  the  natural  and 
social  environments  whose  influence  is  unconsciously  reflected. 
Tlifcsjfc  also  we  must  know,  if  the  book  is  to  speak  its  whole 
message.  In  a  word,  we  have  now  reached  a  point  where  we 
wishstty  understand  as  well  as  to  enjoy  literature;  and  the 
first  step,  since  exact  definition  is  impossible,  is  to  determine 
some  of  its  essential  qualities. 

Qualities  of  Literature.  The  first  significant  thing  is  the 
essentially  artistic  quality  of  all  literature.  All  art  is  the 
expression  of  life  in  forms  of  truth  and  beauty ;  or 
rather,  it  is  the  reflection  of  some  truth  and  beauty 
which  are  in  the  world,  but  which  remain  unnoticed  until 
brought  to  our  attention  by  some  sensitive  human  soul,  just 
as  the  delicate  curves  of  the  shell  reflect  sounds  and  harmo- 
nies too  faint  to  be  otherwise  noticed.  A  hundred  men  may 
pass  a  hayfield  and  see  only  the  sweaty  toil  and  the  windrows 
of  dried  grass ;  but  here  is  one  who  pauses  by  a  Roumanian 
meadow,  where  girls  are  making  hay  and  singing  as  they  work. 
He  looks  deeper,  sees  truth  and  beauty  where  we  see  only 
dead  grass,  and  he  reflects  what  he  sees  in  a  little  poem  in 
which  the  hay  tells  its  own  story : 

Yesterday's  flowers  am  I, 

And  I  have  drunk  my  last  sweet  draught  of  dew. 
Young  maidens  came  and  sang  me  to  my  death ; 
The  moon  looks  down  and  sees  me  in  my  shroud, 

The  shroud  of  my  last  dew. 

Yesterday's  flowers  that  are  yet  in  me 
Must  needs  make  way  for  all  to-morrow's  flowers. 
The  maidens,  too,  that  sang  me  to  my  death 
Must  even  so  make  way  for  all  the  maids 

That  are  to  come. 

And  as  my  soul,  so  too  their  soul  will  be 
Laden  with  fragrance  of  the  days  gone  by. 


INTRODUCTION  3 

The  maidens  that  tomorrow  come  this  way 
Will  not  remember  that  I  once  did  bloom, 
For  they  will  only  see  the  new-born  flowers. 
Yet  will  my  perfume-laden  soul  bring  back, 
As  a  sweet  memory,  to  women's  hearts 

Their  days  of  maidenhood. 
And  then  they  will  be  sorry  that  they  came 

To  sing  me  to  my  death ; 
And  all  the  butterflies  will  mourn  for  me. 

I  bear  away  with  me 
The  sunshine's  dear  remembrance,  and  the  low 

Soft  murmurs  of  the  spring. 
My  breath  is  sweet  as  children's  prattle  is ; 
I  drank  in  all  the  whole  earth's  fruitfulness, 
To  make  of  it  the  fragrance  of  my  soul 

That  shall  outlive  my  death.1 

One  who  reads  only  that  first  exquisite  line,  "Yesterday's 
flowers  am  I,"  can  never  again  see  hay  without  recalling  the 
beauty  that  was  hidden  from  his  eyes  until  the  poet  found  it. 
In  the  same  pleasing,  surprising  way,  all  artistic  work  must 
be  a  kind  of  revelation.  Thus  architecture  is  probably  the 
oldest  of  the  arts ;  yet  we  still  have  many  builders  but  few 
architects,  that  is,  men  whose  work  in  wood  or  stone  suggests 
some  hidden  truth  and  beauty  to  the  human  senses.  So  in 
literature,  which  is  the  art  that  expresses  life  in  words  that 
appeal  to  our  own  sense  of  the  beautiful,  we  have  many  writers 
but  few  artists.  In  the  broadest  sense,  perhaps,  literature 
means  simply  the  written  records  of  the  race,  including  all  its 
history  and  sciences,  as  well  as  its  poems  and  novels ;  in  the 
narrower  sense  literature  is  the  artistic  record  of  life,  and  most 
of  our  writing  is  excluded  from  it,  just  as  the  mass  of  our 
buildings,  mere  shelters  from  storm  and  from  cold,  are  ex- 
cluded from  architecture.  A  history  or  a  work  of  science  may 
be  and  sometimes  is  literature,  but  only  as  we  forget  the 
subject-matter  and  the  presentation  of  facts  in  the  simple 
beauty  of  its  expression. 

1  From  The  Bard  of  the  Dimbovitza^  First  Series,  p.  73. 


4  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

The  second  quality  of  literature  is  its  suggestiveness,  its 
appeal  to  our  emotions  and  imagination  rather  than  to  our 
intellect.  It  is  not  so  much  what  it  says  as  what  it 
awakens  in  us  that  constitutes  its  charm.  When 
Milton  makes  Satan  say,  "  Myself  am  Hell,"  he  does  not  state 
any  fact,  but  rather  opens  up  in  these  three  tremendous 
words  a  whole  world  of  speculation  and  imagination.  When 
Faustus  in  the  presence  of  Helen  asks,  "Was  this  the  face 
that  launched  a  thousand  ships  ? "  he  does  not  state  a  fact 
or  expect  an  answer.  He  opens  a  door  through  which  our 
imagination  enters  a  new  world,  a  world  of  music,  love, 
beauty,  heroism,  —  the  whole  splendid  world  of  Greek  litera- 
ture. Such  magic  is  in  words.  When  Shakespeare  describes 
the  young  Biron  as  speaking 

In  such  apt  and  gracious  words 
That  aged  ears  play  truant  at  his  tales, 

he  has  unconsciously  given  not  only  an  excellent  description 
of  himself,  but  the  measure  of  all  literature,  which  makes  us 
play  truant  with  the  present  world  and  run  away  to  live  awhile 
in  the  pleasant  realm  of  fancy.  The  province  of  all  art  is  not 
to  instruct  but  to  delight  ;  and  only  as  literature  delights  us, 
causing  each  reader  to  build  in  his  own  soul  that  "lordly 
pleasure  house  "  of  which  Tennyson  dreamed  in  his  "  Palace 
of  Art,"  is  it  worthy  of  its  name. 

The  third  characteristic  of  literature,  arising  directly  from 
the  other  two,  is  its  permanence.  The  world  does  not  live  by 
bread  alone.  Notwithstanding  its  hurry  and  bustle 
and  apparent  absorption  in  material  things,  it  does 
not  willingly  let  any  beautiful  thing  perish.  This  is  even  more 
true  of  its  songs  than  of  its  painting  and  sculpture ;  though 
permanence  is  a  quality  we  should  hardly  expect  in  the  pres- 
ent deluge  of  books  and  magazines  pouring  day  and  night 
from  our  presses  in  the  name  of  literature.  But  this  problem 
of  too  many  books  is  not  modern,  as  we  suppose.  It  has  been 
a  problem  ever  since  Caxton  brought  the  first  printing  press 


INTRODUCTION  5      _ 

from  Flanders,  four  hundred  years  ago,  and  in  the  shadow  of 
Westminster  Abbey  opened  his  little  shop  and  advertised 
his  wares  as  "good  and  chepe."  Even  earlier,  a  thousand 
years  before  Caxton  and  his  printing  press,  the  busy  scholars 
of  the  great  library  of  Alexandria  found  that  the  number  of 
parchments  was  much  too  great  for  them  to  handle ;  and 
now,  when  we  print  more  in  a  week  than  all  the  Alexandrian 
scholars  could  copy  in  a  century,  it  would  seem  impossible 
that  any  production  could  be  permanent ;  that  any  song  or 
story  could  live  to  give  delight  in  future  ages.  But  literature 
is  like  a  river  in  flood,  which  gradually  purifies  itself  in  two 
ways,  — the  mud  settles  to  the  bottom,  and  the  scum  rises  to 
the  top.  When  we  examine  the  writings  that  by  common  con- 
sent constitute  our  literature,  the  clear  stream  purified  of  its 
dross,  we  find  at  least  two  more  qualities,  which  we  call  the 
tests  of  literature,  and  which  determine  its  permanence. 

Tests  of  Literature.  The  first  of  these  is  universality,  that 
is,  the  appeal  to  the  widest  human  interests  and  the  sim- 
plest human  emotions.  Though  we  speak  of  national  and  race 
literatures,  like  the  Greek  or  Teutonic,  and  though  each  has 

certain  superficial  marks  arising  out  of  the  peculiar- 
Universality   .  ...  ,    ,  . 

ities  of  its  own  people,  it  is  nevertheless  true  that 

good  literature  knows  no  nationality,  nor  any  bounds  save 
those  of  humanity.  It  is  occupied  chiefly  with  elementary 
passions  and  emotions,  —  love  and  hate,  joy  and  sorrow,  fear 
and  faith,  —  which  are  an  essential  part  of  our  human  nature  ; 
and  the  more  it  reflects  these  emotions  the  more  surely  does 
it  awaken  a  response  in  men  of  every  race.  Every  father 
must  respond  to  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son ;  wherever 
men  are  heroic,  they  will  acknowledge  the  mastery  of  Homer; 
wherever  a  man  thinks  on  the  strange  phenomenon  of  evil  in 
the  world,  he  will  find  his  own  thoughts  in  the  Book  of  Job ; 
in  whatever  place  men  love  their  children,  their  hearts  must 
be  stirred  by  the  tragic  sorrow  of  CEdipus  and  King  Lear. 
All  these  are  but  shining  examples  of  the  law  that  only  as  a 


6  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

book  or  a  little  song  appeals  to  universal  human  interest  does 
it  become  permanent. 

The  second  test  is  a  purely  personal  one,  and  may  be  ex- 
pressed in  the  indefinite  word  "style."  It  is  only  in  a  mechan- 
ical sense  that  style  is  "  the  adequate  expression 
of  thought,"  or  "  the  peculiar  manner  of  expressing 
thought,"  or  any  other  of  the  definitions  that  are  found  in 
the  rhetorics.  In  a  deeper  sense,  style  is  the  man,  that  is,  the 
unconscious  expression  of  the  writer's  own  personality.  It  is 
the  very  soul  of  one  man  reflecting,  as  in  a  glass,  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  of  humanity.  As  no  glass  is  colorless,  but  tinges 
more  or  less  deeply  the  reflections  from  its  surface,  so  no 
author  can  interpret  human  life  without  unconsciously  giving 
to  it  the  native  hue  of  his  own  soul.  It  is  this  intensely  per- 
sonal element  that  constitutes  style.  Every  permanent  book 
has  more  or  less  of  these  two  elements,  the  objective  and  the 
subjective,  the  universal  and  the  personal,  the  deep  thought 
and  feeling  of  the  race  reflected  and  colored  by  the  writer's 
own  life  and  experience. 

The  Object  in  studying  Literature.  Aside  from  the  pleasure 
of  reading,  of  entering  into  a  new  world  and  having  our  imagi- 
nation quickened,  the  study  of  literature  has  one  definite 
object,  and  that  is  to  know  men.  Now  man  is  ever  a  dual 
creature ;  he  has  an  outward  and  an  inner  nature ;  he  is  not 
only  a  doer  of  deeds,  but  a  dreamer  of  dreams  ;  and  to  know 
him,  the  man  of  any  age,  we  must  search  deeper  than  his 
history.  History  records  his  deeds,  his  outward  acts  largely ; 
but  every  great  act  springs  from  an  ideal,  and  to  understand 
this  we  must  read  his  literature,  where  we  find  his  ideals 
recorded.  When  we  read  a  history  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  for 
instance,  we  learn  that  they  were  sea  rovers,  pirates,  explorers, 
great  eaters  and  drinkers  ;  and  we  know  something  of  their 
hovels  and  habits,  and  the  lands  which  they  harried  and  plun- 
dered. All  that  is  interesting ;  but  it  does  not  tell  us  what 
most  we  want  to  know  about  these  old  ancestors  of  ours,  — 


INTRODUCTION  7 

not  only  what  they  did,  but  what  they  thought  and  felt ;  how 
they  looked  on  life  and  death  ;  what  they  loved,  what  they 
feared,  and  what  they  reverenced  in  God  and  man.  Then  we 
turn  from  history  to  the  literature  which  they  themselves 
produced,  and  instantly  we  become  acquainted.  These  hardy 
people  were  not  simply  fighters  and  freebooters ;  they  were 
men  like  ourselves ;  their  emotions  awaken  instant  response 
in  the  souls  of  their  descendants.  At  the  words  of  their 
gleemen  we  thrill  again  to  their  wild  love  of  freedom  and  the 
open  sea  ;  we  grow  tender  at  their  love  of  home,  and  patriotic 
at  their  deathless  loyalty  to  their  chief,  whom  they  chose 
for  themselves  and  hoisted  on  their  shields  in  symbol  of  his 
leadership.  Once  more  we  grow  respectful  in  the  presence 
of  pure  womanhood,  or  melancholy  before  the  sorrows  and 
problems  of  life,  or  humbly  confident,  looking  up  to  the  God 
whom  they  dared  to  call  the  Allfather.  All  these  and  many 
more  intensely  real  emotions  pass  through  our  souls  as  we 
read  the  few  shining  fragments  of  verses  that  the  jealous 
ages  have  left  us. 

It  is  so  with  any  age  or  people.  To  understand  them  we 
must  read  not  simply  their  history,  which  records  their  deeds, 
but  their  literature,  which  records  the  dreams  that,  made  their 
deeds  possible.  So  Aristotle  was  profoundly  right  when  he 
said  that  "poetry  is  more  serious  and  philosophical  than  his- 
tory"; and  Goethe,  when  he  explained  literature  as  "the 
humanization  of  the  whole  world." 

Importance  of  Literature.  It  is  a  curious  and  prevalent 
opinion  that  literature,  like  all  art,  is  a  mere  play  of  imagina- 
tion, pleasing  enough,  like  a  new  novel,  but  without  any  seri- 
ous or  practical  importance.  Nothing  could  be  farther  from 
the  truth.  Literature  preserves  the  ideals  of  a  people ;  and 
ideals  —  love,  faith,  duty,  friendship,  freedom,  reverence  — 
are  the  part  of  human  life  most  worthy  of  preservation.  The 
Greeks  were  a  marvelous  people  ;  yet  of  all  their  mighty 
works  we  cherish  only  a  few  ideals,  —  ideals  of  beauty  in 


8  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

perishable  stone,  and  ideals  of  truth  in  imperishable  prose 
and  poetry.  It  was  simply  the  ideals  of  the  Greeks  and 
Hebrews  and  Romans,  preserved  in  their  literature,  which 
made  them  what  they  were,  and  which  determined  their  value 
to  future  generations.  Our  democracy,  the  boast  of  all  English- 
speaking  nations,  is  a  dream  ;  not  the  doubtful  and  sometimes 
disheartening  spectacle  presented  in  our  legislative  halls,  but 
the  lovely  and  immortal  ideal  of  a  free  and  equal  manhood, 
preserved  as  a  most  precious  heritage  in  every  great  literature 
from  the  Greeks  to  the  Anglo-Saxons.  All  our  arts,  our  sci- 
ences, even  our  inventions  are  founded  squarely  upon  ideals ; 
for  under  every  invention  is  still  the  dream  of  Beowulf,  that 
man  may  overcome  the  forces  of  nature ;  and  the  foundation 
of  all  our  sciences  and  discoveries  is  the  immortal  dream  that 
men  "  shall  be  as  gods,  knowing  good  and  evil." 

In  a  word,  our  whole  civilization,  our  freedom,  our  progress, 
our  homes,  our  religion,  rest  solidly  upon  ideals  for  their 
foundation.  Nothing  but  an  ideal  ever  endures  upon  earth.  It 
is  therefore  impossible  to  overestimate  the  practical  importance 
of  literature,  which  preserves  these  ideals  from  fathers  to 
sons,  while  men,  cities,  governments,  civilizations,  vanish  from 
the  face  of  the  earth.  It  is  only  when  we  remember  this 
that  we  appreciate  the  action  of  the  devout  Mussulman,  who 
picks  up  and  carefully  preserves  every  scrap  of  paper  on 
which  words  are  written,  because  the  scrap  may  perchance 
contain  the  name  of  Allah,  and  the  ideal  is  too  enormously 
important  to  be  neglected  or  lost. 

Summary  of  the  Subject.  We  are  now  ready,  if  not  to 
define,  at  least  to  understand  a  little  more  clearly  the  object 
of  our  present  study.  Literature  is  the  expression  of  life  in 
words  of  truth  and  beauty  ;  it  is  the  written  record  of  man's 
spirit,  of  his  thoughts,  emotions,  aspirations  ;  it  is  the  history, 
and  the  only  history,  of  the  human  soul.  It  is  characterized 
by  its  artistic,  its  suggestive,  its  permanent  qualities.  Its  two 
tests  are  its  universal  interest  and  its  personal  style.  Its 


INTRODUCTION  9 

object,  aside  from  the  delight  it  gives  us,  is  to  know  man, 
that  is,  the  soul  of  man  rather  than  his  actions ;  and  since  it 
preserves  to  the  race  the  ideals  upon  which  all  our  civilization 
is  founded,  it  is  one  of  the  most  important  and  delightful  sub- 
jects that  can  occupy  the  human  mind. 

Bibliography.  (NOTE.  Each  chapter  in  this  book  includes  a  special  bibli- 
ography of  historical  and  literary  works,  selections  for  reading,  chronology, 
etc. ;  and  a  general  bibliography  of  texts,  helps,  and  reference  books  will  be 
found  at  the  end.  The  following  books,  which  are  among  the  best  of  their 
kind,  are  intended  to  help  the  student  to  a  better  appreciation  of  literature  and 
to  a  better  knowledge  of  literary  criticism.) 

General  Works.  Woodberry's  Appreciation  of  Literature  (Baker  &  Taylor 
Co.) ;  Gates's  Studies  in  Appreciation  (Macmillan) ;  Bates's  Talks  on  the  Study 
of  Literature  (Houghton,  Mifflin) ;  Worsfold's  On  the  Exercise  of  Judgment 
in  Literature  (Dent)  ;  Harrison's  The  Choice  of  Books  (Macmillan) ;  Ruskin's 
Sesame  and  Lilies,  Part  I ;  Matthew  Arnold's  Essays  in  Criticism. 

Essays.  Emerson's  Books,  in  Society  and  Solitude ;  Dowden's  The  Inter- 
pretation of  Literature,  in  Transcripts  and  Studies  (Kegan  Paul  &  Co.),  and 
The  Teaching  of  English  Literature,  in  New  Studies  in  Literature  (Houghton, 
Mifflin) ;  The  Study  of  Literature,  Essays  by  Morley,  Nicolls,  and  L.  Stephen, 
edited  by  A.  F.  Blaisdell  (Willard  Small). 

Criticism.  Gayley  and  Scott's  An  Introduction  to  the  Methods  and  Materials 
of  Literary  Criticism  (Ginn  and  Company) ;  Winchester's  Principles  of  Literary 
Criticism  (Macmillan);  Worsfold's  Principles  of  Criticism  (Longmans);  John- 
son's Elements  of  Literary  Criticism  (American  Book  Company) ;  Saintsbury's 
History  of  Criticism  (Dodd,  Mead) . 

Poetry.  Gummere's  Handbook  of  Poetics  (Ginn  and  Company) ;  Stedman's 
The  Nature  and  Elements  of  Poetry  (Houghton,  Mifflin) ;  Johnson's  The  Forms 
of  English  Poetry  (American  Book  Company) ;  Alden's  Specimens  of  English 
Verse  (Holt);  Gummere's  The  Beginnings  of  Poetry  (Macmillan);  Saintsbury's 
History  of  English  Prosody  (Macmillan). 

The  Drama.   Caffin's  Appreciation  of  the  Drama  (Baker  &  Taylor  Co.). 

The  Novel.  Raleigh's  The  English  Novel  (Scribner);  Hamilton's  The  Mate- 
rials and  Methods  of  Fiction  (Baker  &  Taylor  Co.). 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  ANGLO-SAXON  OR  OLD-ENGLISH  PERIOD  (450-1050) 
I.    OUR  FIRST  POETRY 

Beowulf.  Here  is  the  story  of  Beowulf,  the  earliest  and  the 
greatest  epic,  or  heroic  poem,  in  our  literature.  It  begins  with 
a  prologue,  which  is  not  an  essential  part  of  the  story,  but 
which  we  review  gladly  for  the  sake  of  the  splendid  poetical 
conception  that  produced  Scyld,  king  of  the  Spear  Danes.1 

At  a  time  when  the  Spear  Danes  were  without  a  king,  a  ship  came 
sailing  into  their  harbor.  It  was  filled  with  treasures  and  weapons  of 
war  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  these  warlike  things  was  a  baby  sleeping.  No 
man  sailed  the  ship  ;  it  came  of  itself,  bringing  the  child,  whose  name 
was  Scyld. 

Now  Scyld  grew  and  became  a  mighty  warrior,  and  led  the  Spear 
Danes  for  many  years,  and  was  their  king.  When  his  son  Beowulf2  had 
become  strong  and  wise  enough  to  rule,  then  Wyrd  (Fate),  who  speaks 
but  once  to  any  man,  came  and  stood  at  hand  ;  and  it  was  time  for  Scyld 
to  go.  This  is  how  they  buried  him  : 

Then  Scyld  departed,  at  word  of  Wyrd  spoken, 
The  hero  to  go  to  the  home  of  the  gods. 
Sadly  they  bore  him  to  brink  of  the  ocean, 
Comrades,  still  heeding  his  word  of  command. 

There  rode  in  trie  harbor  the  prince's  ship,  ready, 
With  prow  curving  proudly  and  shining  sails  set. 
Shipward  they  bore  him,  their  hero  beloved ; 
The  mighty  they  laid  at  the  foot  of  the  mast. 

^Treasures  were  there  from  far  and  near  gathered, 
Byrnies  of  battle,  armor  and  swords  ; 
Never  a  keel  sailed  out  of  a  harbor 
So  splendidly  tricked  with  the  trappings  of  war. 

1  There  is  a  mystery  about  this  old  hero  which  stirs  our  imagination,  but  which  is 
never  explained.  It  refers,  probably,  to  some  legend  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  which  we  have 
supplied  from  other  sources,  aided  by  some  vague  suggestions  and  glimpses  of  the  past 
in  the  poem  itself.  2  This  is  not  the  Beowulf  who  is  hero  of  the  poem. 

10 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  II 

They  heaped  on  his  bosom  a  hoard  of  bright  jewels 
To  fare  with  him  forth  on  the  flood's  great  breast. 
No  less  gift  they  gave  than  the  Unknown  provided, 
When  alone,  as  a  child,  he  came  in  from  the  mere. 

High  o'er  his  head  waved  a  bright  golden  standard  — 
Now  let  the  waves  bear  their  wealth  to  the  holm. 
Sad-souled  they  gave  back  its  gift  to  the  ocean, 
Mournful  their  mood  as  he  sailed  out  to  sea.1 

"And  no  man,"  says  the  poet,  "neither  counselor  nor  hero,  can  tell 
who  received  that  lading." 

One  of  Scyld's  descendants  was  Hrothgar,  king  of  the  Danes ;  and 
with  him  the  story  of  our  Beowulf  begins.  Hrothgar  in  his  old  age  had 
built  near  the  sea  a  mead  hall  called  Heorot,  the  most  splendid  hall  in 
the  whole  world,  where  the  king  and  his  thanes  gathered  nightly  to 
feast  and  to  listen  to  the  songs  of  his  gleemen.  One  night,  as  they  were 
all  sleeping,  a  frightful  monster,  Grendel,  broke  into  the  hall,  killed 
thirty  of  the  sleeping  warriors,  and  carried  off  their  bodies  to  devour 
them  in  his  lair  under  the  sea.  The  appalling  visit  was  speedily  repeated, 
and  fear  and  death  reigned  in  the  great  hall.  The  warriors  fought  at 
first;  but  fled  when  they  discovered  that  no  weapon  could  harm  the 
monster.  Heorot  was  left  deserted  and  silent.  For  twelve  winters  Gren- 
del's  horrible  raids  continued,  and  joy  was  changed  to  mourning  among 
the  Spear  Danes. 

At  last  the  rumor  of  Grendel  crossed  over  the  sea  to  the  land  of  the 
Geats,  where  a  young  hero  dwelt  in  the  house  of  his  uncle,  King 
Hygelac.  Beowulf  was  his  name,  a  man  of  immense  strength  and 
courage,  and  a  mighty  swimmer  who  had  developed  his  powers  fight- 
ing the  "nickers,"  whales,  walruses  and  seals,  in  the  icebound  northern 
ocean.  When  he  heard  the  story,  Beowulf  was  stirred  to  go  and  fight 
the  monster  and  free  the  Danes,  who  were  his  father's  friends. 

With  fourteen  companions  he  crosses  the  sea.  There  is  an  excellent 
bit  of  ocean  poetry  here  (11.  210-224),  and  we  get  a  vivid  idea  of  the 
hospitality  of  a  brave  people  by  following  the  poet's  description  of 
Beowulf's  meeting  with  King  Hrothgar  and  Queen  Wealhtheow,  and 
of  the  joy  and  feasting  and  story-telling  in  Heorot.  The  picture  of 
Wealhtheow  passing  the  mead  cup  to  the  warriors  with  her  own  hand 
is  a  noble  one,  and  plainly  indicates  the  reverence  paid  by  these  strong 
men  to  their  wives  and  mothers.  Night  comes  on  ;  the  fear  of  Grendel 
is  again  upon  the  Danes,  and  all  withdraw  after  the  king  has  warned 
Beowulf  of  the  frightful  danger  of  sleeping  in  the  hall.  But  Beowulf 
lies  down  with  his  warriors,  saying  proudly  that,  since  weapons  will 

1  Beowulf,  11.  26-50,  a  free  rendering  to  suggest  the  alliteration  of  the  original. 


12  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

not  avail  against  the  monster,  he  will  grapple  with  him  bare  handed  and 
trust  to  a  warrior's  strength. 

Forth  from  the  fens,  from  the  misty  moorlands, 
Grendel  came  gliding  —  God's  wrath1  he  bore  — 
Came  under  clouds,  until  he  saw  clearly, 
Glittering  with  gold  plates,  the  mead  hall  of  men. 
Down  fell  the  door,  though  fastened  with  fire  bands ; 
Open  it  sprang  at  the  stroke  of  his  paw. 
Swollen  with  rage  burst  in  the  bale-bringer ; 
Flamed  in  his  eyes  a  fierce  light,  likest  fire.2 

At  the  sight  of  men  again  sleeping  in  the  hall,  Grendel  laughs  in  his 
heart,  thinking  of  his  feast.  He  seizes  the  nearest  sleeper,  crushes  his 
"bone  case"  with  a  bite,  tears  him  limb  from  limb,  and  swallows  him. 
Then  he  creeps  to  the  couch  of  Beowulf  and  stretches  out  a  claw,  only 
to  find  it  clutched  in  a  grip  of  steel.  A  sudden  terror  strikes  the  mon- 
ster's heart.  He  roars,  struggles,  tries  to  jerk  his  arm  free;  but  Beowulf 
leaps  to  his  feet  and  grapples  his  enemy  bare  handed.  To  and  fro  they 
surge.  Tables  are  overturned ;  golden  benches  ripped  from  their  fasten- 
ings ;  the  whole  building  quakes,  and  only  its  iron  bands  keep  it  from 
falling  to  pieces.  Beowulf's  companions  are  on  their  feet  now,  hacking 
vainly  at  the  monster  with  swords  and  battle-axes,  adding  their  shouts 
to  the  crashing  of  furniture  and  the  howling  "  war  song  "  of  Grendel. 
Outside  in  the  town  the  Danes  stand  shivering  at  the  uproar.  Slowly 
the  monster  struggles  to  the  door,  dragging  Beowulf,  whose  fingers 
crack  with  the  strain,  but  who  never  relaxes  his  first  grip.  Suddenly  a 
wide  wound  opens  in  the  monster's  side  ;  the  sinews  snap  ;  the  whole 
arm  is  wrenched  off  at  the  shoulder ;  and  Grendel  escapes  shrieking 
across  the  moor,  and  plunges  into  the  sea  to  die. 

Beowulf  first  exults  in  his  night's  work ;  then  he  hangs  the  huge  arm 
with  its  terrible  claws  from  a  cross-beam  over  the  king's  seat,  as  one 
would  hang  up  a  bear's  skin  after  a  hunt.  At  daylight  came  the  Danes  ; 
and  all  day  long,  in  the  intervals  of  singing,  story-telling,  speech  mak- 
ing, and  gift  giving,  they  return  to  wonder  at  the  mighty  "grip  of 
Grendel"  and  to  rejoice  in  Beowulf's  victory. 

When  night  falls  a  great  feast  is  spread  in  Heorot,  and  the  Danes 
sleep  once  more  in  the  great  hall.  At  midnight  comes  another  monster, 

1  Grendel,  of  the  Eoten  (giant)  race,  the  death  shadow,  the  mark  stalker,  the  shadow 
ganger,  is  also  variously  called  god's  foe,  fiend  of  hell,  Cain's  brood,  etc.    It  need  hardly 
be  explained  that  the  latter  terms  are  additions  to  the  original  poem,  made,  probably,  by 
monks  who  copied  the  manuscript.    A  belief  in  Wyrd,  the  mighty  power  controlling  the 
destinies  of  men,  is  the  chief  religious  motive  of  the  epic.    In  line  1056  we  find  a  curious 
blending  of  pagan  and  Christian  belief,  where  Wyrd  is  withstood  by  the  "  wise  God." 

2  Summary  of  11.  710-727.    We  have  not  indicated  in  our  translation  (or  in  quota- 
tions from  Garnett,  Morley,  Brooke,  etc.)  where  parts  of  the  text  are  omitted. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  13 

a  horrible,  half-human  creature,1  mother  of  Grendel,  raging  to  avenge 
her  offspring.  She  thunders  at  the  door ;  the  Danes  leap  up  and  grasp 
their  weapons  ;  but  the  monster  enters,  seizes  Aeschere,  who  is  friend  and 
adviser  of  the  king,  and  rushes  away  with  him  over  the  fens. 

The  old  scenes  of  sorrow  are  reviewed  in  the  morning ;  but  Beowulf 
says  simply : 

Sorrow  not,  wise  man.    It  is  better  for  each 

That  his  friend  he  avenge  than  that  he  mourn  much. 

Each  of  us  shall  the  end  await 

Of  worldly  life :  let  him  who  may  gain 

Honor  ere  death.    That  is  for  a  warrior, 

When  he  is  dead,  afterwards  best. 

Arise,  kingdom's  guardian !    Let  us  quickly  go 

To  view  the  track  of  Grendel's  kinsman. 

I  promise  it  thee  :  he  will  not  escape, 

Nor  in  earth's  bosom,  nor  in  mountain-wood, 

Nor  in  ocean's  depths,  go  where  he  will.2 

Then  he  girds  himself  for  the  new  fight  and  follows  the  track  of  the 
second  enemy  across  the  fens.  Here  is  Hrothgar's  description  of  the 
place  where  live  the  monsters,  "spirits  of  elsewhere,"  as  he  calls  them: 

They  inhabit 

The  dim  land  that  gives  shelter  to  the  wolf, 
The  windy  headlands,  perilous  fen  paths, 
Where,  under  mountain  mist,  the  stream  flows  down 
And  floods  the  ground.    Not  far  hence,  but  a  mile, 
The  mere  stands,  over  which  hang  death-chill  groves, 
A  wood  fast-rooted  overshades  the  flood ; 
There  every  night  a  ghastly  miracle 
Is  seen,  fire  in  the  water.    No  man  knows, 
Not  the  most  wise,  the  bottom  of  that  mere. 
The  firm-horned  heath-stalker,  the  hart,  when  pressed, 
Wearied  by  hounds,  and  hunted  from  afar, 
Will  rather  die  of  thirst  upon  its  bank 
Than  bend  his  head  to  it.    It  is  unholy. 
Dark  to  the  clouds  its  yeasty  waves  mount  up 
When  wind  stirs  hateful  tempest,  till  the  air 
Grows  dreary,  and  the  heavens  pour  down  tears.3 

Beowulf  plunges  into  the  horrible  place,  while  his  companions  wait 
for  him  on  the  shore.    For  a  long  time  he  sinks  through  the  flood  ;  then, 

1  Grendel's  mother  belongs  also  to  the  Eoten  (giant)  race.    She  is  called  brim-wylf 
(sea  wolf),  merewif  (sea  woman),  gr-und-wyrgen  (bottom  monster),  etc. 

2  From  Garnett's  Beowulf,  11.  1384-1394.        8  From  Morley's  version,  11.  1357-1376. 


14  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

as  he  reaches  bottom,  Grendel's  mother  rushes  out  upon  him  and  drags 
him  into  a  cave,  where  sea  monsters  swarm  at  him  from  behind  and 
gnash  his  armor  with  their  tusks.  The  edge  of  his  sword  is  turned 
with  the  mighty  blow  he  deals  the  merewif;  but  it  harms  not  the  mon- 
ster. Casting  the  weapon  aside,  he  grips  her  and  tries  to  hurl  her  down, 
while  her  claws  and  teeth  clash  upon  his  corslet  but  cannot  penetrate 
the  steel  rings.  She  throws  her  bulk  upon  him,  crushes  him  down, 
draws  a  short  sword  and  plunges  it  at  him;  but  again  his  splendid 
byrnie  saves  him.  He  is  wearied  now,  and  oppressed.  Suddenly,  as 
his  eye  sweeps  the  cave,  he  catches  sight  of  a  magic  sword,  made  by 
the  giants  long  ago,  too  heavy  for  warriors  to  wield.  Struggling  up 
he  seizes  the  weapon,  whirls  it  and  brings  down  a  crashing  blow  upon 
the  monster's  neck.  It  smashes  through  the  ring  bones ;  the  merewif 
falls,  and  the  fight  is  won. 

The  cave  is  full  of  treasures ;  but  Beowulf  heeds  them  not,  for  near 
him  lies  Grendel,  dead  from  the  wound  received  the  previous  night. 
Again  Beowulf  swings  the  great  sword  and  strikes  off  his  enemy's  head  ; 
and  lo,  as  the  venomous  blood  touches  the  sword  blade,  the  steel  melts  like 
ice  before  the  fire,  and  only  the  hilt  is  left  in  Beowulf's  hand.  Taking  the 
hilt  and  the  head,  the  hero  enters  the  ocean  and  mounts  up  to  the  shore. 

Only  his  own  faithful  band  were  waiting  there  ;  for  the  Danes,  see- 
ing the  ocean  bubble  with  fresh  blood,  thought  it  was  all  over  with  the 
hero  and  had  gone  home.  And  there  they  were,  mourning  in  Heorot,  when 
Beowulf  returned  with  the  monstrous  head  of  Grendel  carried  on  a 
spear  shaft  by  four  of  his  stoutest  followers. 

In  the  last  part  of  the  poem  there  is  another  great  fight.  Beowulf  is 
now  an  old  man  ;  he  has  reigned  for  fifty  years,  beloved  by  all  his  peo- 
ple. He  has  overcome  every  enemy  but  one,  a  fire  dragon  keeping 
watch  over  an  enormous  treasure  hidden  among  the  mountains.  One 
day  a  wanderer  stumbles  upon  the  enchanted  cave  and,  entering,  takes 
a  jeweled  cup  while  the  firedrake  sleeps  heavily.  That  same  night  the 
dragon,  in  a  frightful  rage,  belching  forth  fire  and  smoke,  rushes  down 
upon  the  nearest  villages,  leaving  a  trail  of  death  and  terror  behind  him. 

Again  Beowulf  goes  forth  to  champion  his  people.  As  he  approaches 
the  dragon's  cave,  he  has  a  presentiment  that  death  lurks  within : 

Sat  on  the  headland  there  the  warrior  king ; 
Farewell  he  said  to  hearth-companions  true, 
The  gold-friend  of  the  Geats  ;  his  mind  was  sad, 
Death-ready,  restless.    And  Wyrd  was  drawing  nigh, 
Who  now  must  meet  and  touch  the  aged  man, 
To  seek  the  treasure  that  his  soul  had  saved 
And  separate  his  body  from  his  life.1 

1  Beowulf,  11.  2417-2423,  a  free  rendering. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  15 

There  is  a  flash  of  illumination,  like  that  which  comes  to  a  dying 
man,  in  which  his  mind  runs  back  over  his  long  life  and  sees  something 
of  profound  meaning  in  the  elemental  sorrow  moving  side  by  side  with 
magnificent  courage.  Then  follows  the  fight  with  the  firedrake,  in 
which  Beowulf,  wrapped  in  fire  and  smoke,  is  helped  by  the  heroism  of 
Wiglaf,  one  of  his  companions.  The  dragon  is  slain,  but  the  fire  has 
entered  Beowulf's  lungs  and  he  knows  that  Wyrd  is  at  hand.  This  is 
his  thought,  while  Wiglaf  removes  his  battered  armor : 

"  One  deep  regret  I  have  :  that  to  a  son 
I  may  not  give  the  armor  I  have  worn, 
To  bear  it  after  me.    For  fifty  years 
I  ruled  these  people  well,  and  not  a  king 
Of  those  who  dwell  around  me,  dared  oppress 
Or  meet  me  with  his  hosts.    At  home  I  waited 
For  the  time  that  Wyrd  controls.    Mine  own  I  kept, 
Nor  quarrels  sought,  nor  ever  falsely  swore. 
Now,  wounded  sore,  I  wait  for  joy  to  come."  x 

He  sends  Wiglaf  into  the  firedrake's  cave,  who  finds  it  filled  with 
rare  treasures  and,  most  wonderful  of  all,  a  golden  banner  from  which 
light  proceeds  and  illumines  all  the  darkness.  But  Wiglaf  cares  little 
for  the  treasures  ;  his  mind  is  full  of  his  dying  chief.  He  fills  his  hands 
with  costly  ornaments  and  hurries  to  throw  them  at  his  hero's  feet.  The 
old  man  looks  with  sorrow  at  the  gold,  thanks  the  "Lord  of  all"  that  by 
death  he  has  gained  more  riches  for  his  people,  and  tells  his  faithful 
thane  how  his  body  shall  be  burned  on  the  Whale  ness,  or  headland : 

w  My  life  is  well  paid  for  this  hoard ;  and  now 
Care  for  the  people's  needs.    I  may  no  more 
Be  with  them.    Bid  the  warriors  raise  a  barrow 
After  the  burning,  on  the  ness  by  the  sea, 
On  Hronesness,  which  shall  rise  high  and  be 
For  a  remembrance  to  my  people.    Seafarers 
Who  from  afar  over  the  mists  of  waters 
Drive  foamy  keels  may  call  it  Beowulf's  Mount 
Hereafter."    Then  the  hero  from  his  neck 
Put  off  a  golden  collar  ;  to  his  thane, 
To  the  young  warrior,  gave  it  with  his  helm, 
Armlet  and  corslet ;  bade  him  use  them  well. 
w  Thou  art  the  last  Waegmunding  of  our  race, 
For  fate  has  swept  my  kinsmen  all  away. 
Earls  in  their  strength  are  to  their  Maker  gone, 
And  I  must  follow  them."  2 

1  Lines  2729-2740,  a  free  rendering.  2  Morley's  version,  11.  2799-2816. 


1 6  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Beowulf  was  still  living  when  Wiglaf  sent  a  messenger  hurriedly  to 
his  people  ;  when  they  came  they  found  him  dead,  and  the  huge  dragon 
dead  on  the  sand  beside  him. 

Then  the  Goth's  people  reared  a  mighty  pile 

With  shields  and  armour  hung,  as  he  had  asked, 

And  in  the  midst  the  warriors  laid  their  lord, 

Lamenting.    Then  the  warriors  on  the  mount 

Kindled  a  mighty  bale  fire  ;  the  smoke  rose 

Black  from  the  Swedish  pine,  the  sound  of  flame 

Mingled  with  sound  of  weeping  ;  .  .  .  while  smoke 

Spread  over  heaven.    Then  upon  the  hill 

The  people  of  the  Weders  wrought  a  mound, 

High,  broad,  and  to  be  seen  far  out  at  sea. 

In  ten  days  they  had  built  and  walled  it  in 

As  the  wise  thought  most  worthy  ;  placed  in  it 

Rings,  jewels,  other  treasures  from  the  hoard. 

They  left  the  riches,  golden  joy  of  earls, 

In  dust,  for  earth  to  hold  ;  where  yet  it  lies, 

Useless  as  ever.    Then  about  the  mound 

The  warriors  rode,  and  raised  a  mournful  song 

For  their  dead  king  ;  exalted  his  brave  deeds, 

Holding  it  fit  men  honour  their  liege  lord, 

Praise  him  and  love  him  when  his  soul  is  fled. 

Thus  the  [Geat's]  people,  sharers  of  his  hearth, 

Mourned  their  chief's  fall,  praised  him,  of  kings,  of  men 

The  mildest  and  the  kindest,  and  to  all 

His  people  gentlest,  yearning  for  their  praise.1 

One  is  tempted  to  linger  over  the  details  of  the  magnificent 
ending :  the  unselfish  heroism  of  Beowulf,  the  great  prototype 
of  King  Alfred;  the  generous  grief  of  his  people,  ignoring 
gold  and  jewels  in  the  thought  of  the  greater  treasure  they 
had  lost ;  the  memorial  mound  on  the  low  cliff,  which  would 
cause  every  returning  mariner  to  steer  a  straight  course  to 
harbor  in  the  remembrance  of  his  dead  hero ;  and  the  pure 
poetry  which  marks  every  noble  line.  But  the  epic  is  great 
enough  and  simple  enough  to  speak  for  itself.  Search  the 
literatures  of  the  world,  and  you  will  find  no  other  such 
picture  of  a  brave  man's  death. 

1  Lines  3156-3182  (Morley's  version). 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  17      

Concerning  the  history  of  Beowulf  a  whole  library  has  been 
written,  and  scholars  still  differ  too  radically  for  us  to  express 
Histo  and  a  Positrve  judgment.  This  much,  however,  is  clear, 
Meaning  of  -  that  there  existed,  at  the  time  the  poem  was 
composed,  various  northern  legends  of  Beowa,  a 
half-divine  hero,  and  the  monster  Grendel.  The  latter  has 
been  interpreted  in  various  ways,  —  sometimes  as  a  bear,  and 
again  as  the  malaria  of  the  marsh  lands.  For  those  interested 
in  symbols  the  simplest  interpretation  of  these  myths  is  to 
regard  Beowulf's  successive  fights  with  the  three  dragons  as 
the  overcoming,  first,  of  the  overwhelming  danger  of  the  sea, 
which  was  beaten  back  by  the  dykes;  second,  the  conquer- 
ing of  the  sea  itself,  when  men  learned  to  sail  upon  it ;  and 
third,  the  conflict  with  the  hostile  forces  of  nature,  which  are 
overcome  at  last  by  man's  indomitable  will  and  perseverance. 

All  this  is  purely  mythical ;  but  there  are  historical  inci- 
dents to  reckon  with.  About  the  year  520  a  certain  northern 
chief,  called  by  the  chronicler  Chochilaicus  (who  is  generally 
identified  with  the  Hygelac  of  the  epic),  led  a  huge  plundering 
expedition  up  the  Rhine.  After  a  succession  of  battles  he  was 
overcome  by  the  Franks,  but  —  and  now  we  enter  a  legendary 
region  once  more  —  not  until  a  gigantic  nephew  of  Hygelac  had 
performed  heroic  feats  of  valor,  and  had  saved  the  remnants 
of  the  host  by  a  marvelous  feat  of  swimming.  The  majority  of 
scholars  now  hold  that  these  historical  events  and  personages 
were  celebrated  in  the  epic  ;  but  some  still  assert  that  the  events 
which  gave  a  foundation  for  Beowulf  occurred  wholly  on  Eng- 
lish soil,  where  the  poem  itself  was  undoubtedly  written. 

The  rhythm  of  Beo wulf  and  indeed  of  all  our  earliest  poetry 
depended  upon  accent  and  alliteration  ;  that  is,  the  beginning 
Poetical  of  two  or  more  words  in  the  same  line  with  the 
Form  same  sound  or  letter.  The  lines  were  made  up  of 

two  short  halves,  separated  by  a  pause.  No  rime  was  used  ; 
but  a  musical  effect  was  produced  by  giving  each  half  line 
two  strongly  accented  syllables.  Each  full  line,  therefore. 


1 8  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

had  four  accents,  three  of  which  (i.e.  two  in  the  first  half, 
and  one  in  the  second)  usually  began  with  the  same  sound  or 
letter.  The  musical  effect  was  heightened  by  the  harp  with 
which  the  gleeman  accompanied  his  singing.  The  poetical 
form  will  be  seen  clearly  in  the  following  selection  from  the 
wonderfully  realistic  description  of  the  fens  haunted  by  Gren- 
del.  It  will  need  only  one  or  two  readings  aloud  to  show  that 
many  of  these  strange-looking  words  are  practically  the  same 
as  those  we  still  use,  though  many  of  the  vowel  sounds  were 
pronounced  differently  by  our  ancestors. 

.  .  .  Hie  dygel  lond 
Warigeath,  wulf-hleothu,          windige  naessas, 

Frecne  fen-gelad,         thaer  fyrgen-stream 
Under  nasssa  genipu         nither  gewiteth, 
Flod  under  foldan.          Nis  thaet  feor  heonon, 
Mil-gemearces,          thaet  se  mere  standeth, 
Ofer  thaem  hongiath         hrinde  bearwas 

.  .  .  They  (a)  darksome  land 
Ward  (inhabit),  wolf  cliffs,         windy  nesses, 

Frightful  fen  paths  where  mountain  stream 

Under  nesses'  mists  nether  (downward)  wanders, 

A  flood  under  earth.  It  is  not  far  hence, 

By  mile  measure,  that  the  mere  stands, 

Over  which  hang  rimy  groves. 

Widsith.  The  poem  "Widsith,"  the  wide  goer  or  wanderer, 
is  in  part,  at  least,  probably  the  oldest  in  our  language.  The 
author  and  the  date  of  its  composition  are  unknown ;  but  the 
personal  account  of  the  minstrel's  life  belongs  to  the  time 
before  the  Saxons  first  came  to  England.1  It  expresses  the 
wandering  life  of  the  gleeman,  who  goes  forth  into  the  world 
to  abide  here  or  there,  according  as  he  is  rewarded  for  his 
singing.  From  the  numerous  references  to  rings  and  rewards, 
and  from  the  praise  given  to  generous  givers,  it  would  seem 

1  Probably  to  the  fourth  century,  though  some  parts  of  the  poem  must  have  been 
added  later.  Thus  the  poet  says  (11.  88-102)  that  he  visited  Eormanric,  who  died  dr.  375, 
and  Queen  Ealhhild  whose  father,  Eadwin,  died  dr.  561.  The  difficulty  of  fixing  a  date 
to  the  poem  is  apparent.  It  contains  several  references  to  scenes  and  characters  in 
Beowulf. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  19 

V- 

-rjufe  pf  (raw  pili 


ocen      png 
pum  pamecofele- 

ptim  5^^5011  epotflan 


ion 

feojio  Caxnob 


e-  (c  liolc  u 
^Epnum  g 
o|tfc  mec 


\um 

fyjican 
ic  e 

.  tiefeJiic 
men  moii^ua 
co  noll^f  p>|tpfi4ft:  f^Tum  .  o 

A   PAGE  FROM  THE   MANUSCRIPT  OF  BEOWULF 


20  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

that  literature  as  a  paying  profession  began  very  early  in  our 
history,  and  also  that  the  pay  was  barely  sufficient  to  hold 
soul  and  body  together.  Of  all  our  modern  poets,  Goldsmith 
wandering  over  Europe  paying  for  his  lodging  with  his  songs 
is  most  suggestive  of  this  first  recorded  singer  of  our  race. 
His  last  lines  read  : 

Thus  wandering,  they  who  shape  songs  for  men 
Pass  over  many  lands,  and  tell  their  need, 
And  speak  their  thanks,  and  ever,  south  or  north, 
Meet  someone  skilled  in  songs  and  free  in  gifts, 
Who  would  be  raised  among  his  friends  to  fame 
And  do  brave  deeds  till  light  and  life  are  gone. 
He  who  has  thus  wrought  himself  praise  shall  have 
A  settled  glory  underneath  the  stars.1 

Deor's  Lament.  In  "  Deor  "  we  have  another  picture  of  the 
Saxon  scop,  or  minstrel,  not  in  glad  wandering,  but  in  manly 
sorrow.  It  seems  that  the  scop's  living  depended  entirely  upon 
his  power  to  please  his  chief,  and  that  at  any  time  he  might 
be  supplanted  by  a  better  poet.  Deor  had  this  experience,  and 
comforts  himself  in  a  grim  way  by  recalling  various  examples 
of  men  who  have  suffered  more  than  himself.  The  poem  is 
arranged  in  strophes,  each  one  telling  of  some  afflicted  hero 
and  ending  with  the  same  refrain :  His  sorrow  passed  away  ; 
so  will  mine.  "Deor"  is  much  more  poetic  than  "Widsith," 
and  is  the  one  perfect  lyric2  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  period. 

Weland  for  a  woman     knew  too  well  exile. 
Strong  of  soul  that  earl,     sorrow  sharp  he  bore  ; 
To  companionship  he  had     care  and  weary  longing, 
Winter-freezing  wretchedness.     Woe  he  found  again,  again, 
After  that  Nithhad     in  a  need  had  laid  him  — 
Staggering  sinew-wounds  —     sorrow-smitten  man  ! 
That  he  overwent;  this  also  may  7.3 

The  Seafarer.  The  wonderful  poem  of  "The  Seafarer" 
seems  to  be  in  two  distinct  parts.  The  first  shows  the  hardships 

1  Lines  135-143  (Morley's  version). 

2  A  lyric  is  a  short  poem  reflecting  some  personal  emotion,  like  love  or  grief.    Two 
other  Anglo-Saxon  poems,  "  The  Wife's  Complaint "  and  "  The  Husband's  Message," 
belong  to  this  class. 

8  First  strophe  of  Brooke's  version,  History  of  Early  English  Literature. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  21 

of  ocean  life  ;  but  stronger  than  hardships  is  the  subtle  call  of 
the  sea.  The  second  part  is  an  allegory,  in  which  the  troubles 
of  the  seaman  are  symbols  of  the  troubles  of  this  life,  and  the 
call  of  the  ocean  is  the  call  in  the  soul  to  be  up  and  away  to  its 
true  home  with  God.  Whether  the  last  was  added  by  some  monk 
who  saw  the  allegorical  possibilities  of  the  first  part,  or  whether 
some  sea-loving  Christian  scop  wrote  both,  is  uncertain.  Follow- 
ing are  a  few  selected  lines  to  show  the  spirit  of  the  poem : 

The  hail  flew  in  showers  about  me  ;  and  there  I  heard  only 

The  roar  of  the  sea,  ice-cold  waves,  and  the  song  of  the  swan  ; 

For  pastime  the  gannets'  cry  served  me  ;  the  kittiwakes'  chatter 

For  laughter  of  men ;  and  for  mead  drink  the  call  of  the  sea  mews. 

When  storms  on  the  rocky  cliffs  beat,  then  the  terns,  icy-feathered, 

Made  answer ;  full  oft  the  sea  eagle  forebodingly  screamed, 

The  eagle  with  pinions  wave-wet.  .  .  . 

The  shadows  of  night  became  darker,  it  snowed  from  the  north  ; 

The  world  was  enchained  by  the  frost  ;  hail  fell  upon  earth  ; 

'T  was  the  coldest  of  grain.    Yet  the  thoughts  of  my  heart  now  are 

throbbing 

To  test  the  high  streams,  the  salt  waves  in  tumultuous  play. 
Desire  in  my  heart  ever  urges  my  spirit  to  wander, 
To  seek  out  the  home  of  the  stranger  in  lands  afar  off. 

There  is  no  one  that  dwells  upon  earth,  so  exalted  in  mind, 
But  that  he  has  always  a  longing,  a  sea-faring  passion 
For  what  the  Lord  God  shall  bestow,  be  it  honor  or  death. 
No  heart  for  the  harp  has  he,  nor  for  acceptance  of  treasure, 
No  pleasure  has  he  in  a  wife,  no  delight  in  the  world, 
Nor  in  aught  save  the  roll  of  the  billows  ;  but  always  a  longing, 
A  yearning  uneasiness,  hastens  him  on  to  the  sea. 

The  woodlands  are  captured  by  blossoms,  the  hamlets  grow  fair, 
Broad  meadows  are  beautiful,  earth  again  bursts  into  life, 
And  all  stir  the  heart  of  the  wanderer  eager  to  journey, 
So  he  meditates  going  afar  on  the  pathway  of  tides. 
The  cuckoo,  moreover,  gives  warning  with  sorrowful  note, 
Summer's  harbinger  sings,  and  forebodes  to  the  heart  bitter  sorrow. 

Now  my  spirit  uneasily  turns  in  the  heart's  narrow  chamber, 
Now  wanders  forth  over  the  tide,  o'er  the  home  of  the  whale, 
To  the  ends  of  the  earth  —  and  comes  back  to  me. 

Eager  and  greedy, 

The  lone  wanderer  screams,  and  resistlessly  drives  my  soul  onward, 
Over  the  whale-path,  over  the  tracts  of  the  sea.1 
1  Seafarer,  Part  I,  Iddings'  version,  in  Translations  from  Old  English  Poetry. 


22  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

The  Fight  at  Finnsburgh  and  Waldere.  Two  other  of  our  old* 
est  poems  well  deserve  mention.  The  "Fight  at  Finnsburgh'* 
is  a  fragment  of  fifty  lines,  discovered  on  the  inside  of  a 
piece  of  parchment  drawn  over  the  wooden  covers  of  a  book 
of  homilies.  It  is  a  magnificent  war  song,  describing  with 
Homeric  power  the  defense  of  a  hall  by  Hnaef l  with  sixty 
warriors,  against  the  attack  of  Finn  and  his  army.  At  mid- 
night, when  Hnaef  and  his  men  are  sleeping,  they  are  sur- 
rounded by  an  army  rushing  in  with  fire  and  sword.  Hnaef 
springs  to  his  feet  at  the  first  alarm  and  wakens  his  warriors 
with  a  call  to  action  that  rings  like  a  bugle  blast : 

This  no  eastward  dawning  is,     nor  is  here  a  dragon  flying, 
Nor  of  this  high  hall     are  the  horns  a  burning  ; 
But  they  rush  upon  us  here  —     now  the  ravens  sing, 
Growling  is  the  gray  wolf,     grim  the  war-wood  rattles, 
Shield  to  shaft  is  answering.2 

The  fight  lasts  five  days,  but  the  fragment  ends  before  we 
learn  the  outcome.  The  same  fight  is  celebrated  by  Hrothgar's 
gleeman  at  the  feast  in  Heorot,  after  the  slaying  of  Grendel. 

"  Waldere  "  is  a  fragment  of  two  leaves,  from  which  we  get 
only  a  glimpse  of  the  story  of  Waldere  (Walter  of  Aquitaine) 
and  his  betrothed  bride  Hildgund,  who  were  hostages  at  the 
court  of  Attila.  They  escaped  with  a  great  treasure,  and  in 
crossing  the  mountains  were  attacked  by  Gunther  and  his 
warriors,  among  whom  was  Walter's  former  comrade,  Hagen. 
Walter  fights  them  all  and  escapes.  The  same  story  was 
written  in  Latin  in  the  tenth  century,  and  is  also  part  of  the 
old  German  Nibelungenlied.  Though  the  saga  did  not  origi- 
nate with  the  Anglo-Saxons,  their  version  of  it  is  the  oldest 
that  has  come  down  to  us.  The  chief  significance  of  these 
"Waldere"  fragments  lies  in  the  evidence  they  afford  that 
our  ancestors  were  familiar  with  the  legends  and  poetry  of 
other  Germanic  peoples. 

1  It  is  an  open  question  whether  this  poem  celebrates  the  fight  at  which  Hnsef,  the 
Danish  leader,  fell,  or  a  later  fight  led  by  Hengist,  to  avenge  Hnaef 's  death. 

2  Brooke's  translation,  History  of  Early  English  Literature.  For  another  early  battle- 
song  see  Tennyson's  "  Battle  of  Brunanburh." 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  23 

II.   ANGLO-SAXON  LIFE 

We  have  now  read  some  of  our  earliest  records,  and  have 
been  surprised,  perhaps,  that  men  who  are  generally  described 
in  the  histories  as  savage  fighters  and  freebooters  could  pro- 
duce such  excellent  poetry.  It  is  the  object  of  the  study  of 
all  literature  to  make  us  better  acquainted  with  men, —  not 
simply  with  their  deeds,  which  is  the  function  of  history,  but 
with  the  dreams  and  ideals  which  underlie  all  their  actions. 
So  a  reading  of  this  early  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  not  only  makes 
us  acquainted,  but  also  leads  to  a  profound  respect  for  the 
men  who  were  our  ancestors.  Before  we  study  more  of  their 
literature  it  is  well  to  glance  briefly  at  their  life  and  language. 

The  Name.  Originally  the  name  Anglo-Saxon  denotes  two 
of  the  three  Germanic  tribes,  —  Jutes,  Angles,  and  Saxons,  — 
who  in  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century  left  their  homes  on  the 
shores  of  the  North  Sea  and  the  Baltic  to  conquer  and  colonize 
distant  Britain.  Angeln  was  the  home  of  one  tribe,  and  the 
name  still  clings  to  the  spot  whence  some  of  our  forefathers 
sailed  on  their  momentous  voyage.  The  old  Saxon  word 
angul  or  ongul  means  a  hook,  and  the  English  verb  angle  is 
used  invariably  by  Walton  and  older  writers  in  the  sense  of 
fishing.  We  may  still  think,  therefore,  of  the  first  Angles  as 
hook-men,  possibly  because  of  their  fishing,  more  probably 
because  the  shore  where  they  lived,  at  the  foot  of  the  penin- 
sula of  Jutland,  was  bent  in  the  shape  of  a  fishhook.  The 
name  Saxon  from  seax,  sax,  a  short  sword,  means  the  sword- 
man,  and  from  the  name  we  may  judge  something  of  the 
temper  of  the  hardy  fighters  who  preceded  the  Angles  into 
Britain.  The  Angles  were  the  most  numerous  of  the  con- 
quering tribes,  and  from  them  the  new  home  was  called 
Anglalond.  By  gradual  changes  this  became  first  Englelond 
and  then  England. 

More  than  five  hundred  years  after  the  landing  of  these 
tribes,  and  while  they  called  themselves  Englishmen,  we  find 
the  Latin  writers  of  the  Middle  Ages  speaking  of  the  inhabitants 


24  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  Britain  as  Anglisaxones, — that  is,  Saxons  of  England, — to 
distinguish  them  from  the  Saxons  of  the  Continent.  In  the 
Latin  charters  of  King  Alfred  the  same  name  appears  ;  but  it 
is  never  seen  or  heard  in  his  native  speech.  There  he  always 
speaks  of  his  beloved  "Englelond"  and  of  his  brave  "Englisc" 
people.  In  the  sixteenth  century,  when  the  old  name  of 
Englishmen  clung  to  the  new  people  resulting  from  the  union 
of  Saxon  and  Norman,  the  name  Anglo-Saxon  was  first  used 
in  the  national  sense  by  the  scholar  Camden *  in  his  History 
of  Britain  ;  and  since  then  it  has  been  in  general  use  among 
English  writers.  In  recent  years  the  name  has  gained  a  wider 
significance,  until  it  is  now  used  to  denote  a  spirit  rather  than 
a  nation,  the  brave,  vigorous,  enlarging  spirit  that  character- 
izes the  English-speaking  races  everywhere,  and  that  has 
already  put  a  broad  belt  of  English  law  and  English  liberty 
around  the  whole  world. 

The  Life.  If  the  literature  of  a  people  springs  directly  out 
of  its  life,  then  the  stern,  barbarous  life  of  our  Saxon  fore- 
fathers would  seem,  at  first  glance,  to  promise  little  of  good 
literature.  Outwardly  their  life  was  a  constant  hardship,  a  per- 
petual struggle  against  savage  nature  and  savage  men.  Behind 
them  were  gloomy  forests  inhabited  by  wild  beasts  and  still 
wilder  men,  and  peopled  in  their  imagination  with  dragons 
and  evil  shapes.  In  front  of  them,  thundering  at  the  very 
dikes  for  entrance,  was  the  treacherous  North  Sea,  with  its 
fogs  and  storms  and  ice,  but  with  that  indefinable  call  of  the 
deep  that  all  men  hear  who  live  long  beneath  its  influence. 
Here  they  lived,  a  big,  blond,  powerful  race,  and  hunted  and 
fought  and  sailed,  and  drank  and  feasted  when  their  labor  was 
done.  Almost  the  first  thing  we  notice  about  these  big,  fear- 
less, childish  men  is  that  they  love  the  sea ;  and  because  they 
love  it  they  hear  and  answer  its  call : 

1  William  Camden  (1551-1623),  one  of  England's  earliest  and  greatest  antiquarians. 
His  first  work,  Britannia,  a  Latin  history  of  England,  has  been  called  "  the  common  sun 
whereat  our  modern  writers  have  all  kindled  their  little  torches." 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  25 

...  No  delight  has  he  in  the  world, 

Nor  in  aught  save  the  roll  of  the  billows;  but  always  a  longing, 
A  yearning  uneasiness,  hastens  him  on  to  the  sea.1 

As  might  be  expected,  this  love  of  the  ocean  finds  expres- 
sion in  all  their  poetry.  In  Beowulf  alone  there  are  fifteen 
names  for  the  sea,  from  the  holm,  that  is,  the  horizon  sea,  the 
"upmounding,"  to  the  brim,  which  is  the  ocean  flinging  its 
welter  of  sand  and  creamy  foam  upon  the  beach  at  your  feet. 
And  the  figures  used  to  describe  or  glorify  it  —  "  the  swan 
road,  the  whale  path,  the  heaving  battle  plain  "  —  are  almost 
as  numerous.  In  all  their  poetry  there  is  a  magnificent  sense  of 
lordship  over  the  wild  sea  even  in  its  hour  of  tempest  and  fury: 

Often  it  befalls  us,  on  the  ocean's  highways, 

In  the  boats  our  boatmen,  when  the  storm  is  roaring, 

Leap  the  billows  over,  on  our  stallions  of  the  foam.2 

The  Inner  Life.  A  man's  life  is  more  than  his  work  ;  his 
dream,  is  ever  greater  than  his  achievement ;  and  literature 
reflects  not  so  much  man's  deed  as  the  spirit  which  animates 
him  ;  not  the  poor  thing  that  he  does,  but  rather  the  splendid 
thing  that  he  ever  hopes  to  do.  In  no  place  is  this  more  evi- 
dent than  in  the  age  we  are  now  studying.  Those  early  sea 
kings  were  a  marvelous  mixture  of  savagery  and  sentiment, 
of  rough  living  and  of  deep  feeling,  of  splendid  courage  and 
the  deep  melancholy  of  men  who  know  their  limitations  and 
have  faced  the  unanswered  problem  of  death.  They  were  not 
simply  fearless  freebooters  who  harried  every  coast  in  their 
war  galleys.  If  that  were  all,  they  would  have  no  more  his- 
tory or  literature  than  the  Barbary  pirates,  of  whom  the  same 
thing  could  be  said.  These  strong  fathers  of  ours  were  men 
of  profound  emotions.  In  all  their  fighting  the  love  of  an  un- 
tarnished glory  was  uppermost ;  and  under  the  warrior's  savage 
exterior  was  hidden  a  great  love  of  home  and  homely  virtues, 

1  From  Iddings'  version  of  The  Seafarer. 

2  From  Andreas,  11.  511  ff.,  a  free  translation.    The  whole  poem  thrills  with  the 
old  Saxon  love  of  the  sea  and  of  ships. 


zC>  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

and  a  reverence  for  the  one  woman  to  whom  he  would  pres- 
ently return  in  triumph.  So  when  the  wolf  hunt  was  over,  or 
the  desperate  fight  was  won,  these  mighty  men  would  gather 
in  the  banquet  hall,  and  lay  their  weapons  aside  where  the 
open  fire  would  flash  upon  them,  and  there  listen  to  the  songs 
of  Scop  and  Gleeman,  —  men  who  could  put  into  adequate 
words  the  emotions  and  aspirations  that  all  men  feel  but  that 
only  a  few  can  ever  express  : 

Music  and  song  where  the  heroes  sat  — 

The  glee-wood  rang,  a  song  uprose 

When  Hrothgar's  scop  gave  the  hall  good  cheer.1 

It  is  this  great  and  hidden  life  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  that 
finds  expression  in  all  their  literature.  Briefly,  it  is  summed 
up  in  five  great  principles,  —  their  love  of  personal  freedom, 
their  responsiveness  to  nature,  their  religion,  their  reverence 
for  womanhood,  and  their  struggle  for  glory  as  a  ruling  motive 
in  every  noble  life. 

In  reading  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  it  is  well  to  remember  these 

Springs  of      ^ve  Prmciples>  for  tnev  are  like  tne  little  springs 
Anglo-Saxon  at  the  head  of  a  great  river, —  clear,  pure  springs  of 
poetry,  and  out  of  them  the  best  of  our  literature 
has  always  flowed.    Thus  when  we  read, 

Blast  of  the  tempest  —  it  aids  our  oars  ; 
Rolling  of  thunder  —  it  hurts  us  not ; 
Rush  of  the  hurricane  —  bending  its  neck 
To  speed  us  whither  our  wills  are  bent, 

we  realize  that  these  sea  rovers  had  the  spirit  of  kinship  with 
the  mighty  life  of  nature ;  and  kinship  with  nature  invariably 
expresses  itself  in  poetry.  Again,  when  we  read, 

Now  hath  the  man 

O'ercome  his  troubles.    No  pleasure  does  he  lack, 
Nor  steeds,  nor  jewels,  nor  the  joys  of  mead, 
Nor  any  treasure  that  the  earth  can  give, 
O  royal  woman,  if  he  have  but  thee,2 

1  From  Beowulf,  11.  1063  ^->  a  ^ree  translation. 

2  Translated  from  The  Husband's  Message,  written  on  a  piece  of  bark.   With  won- 
derful poetic  insight  the  bark  itself  is  represented  as  telling  its  story  to  the  wife,  from 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  27 

we  know  we  are  dealing  with  an  essentially  noble  man,  not  a 
savage  ;  we  are  face  to  face  with  that  profound  reverence  for 
womanhood  which  inspires  the  greater  part  of  all  good  poetry, 
and  we  begin  to  honor  as  well  as  understand  our  ancestors. 
So  in  the  matter  of  glory  or  honor  ;  it  was,  apparently,  not  the 
love  of  fighting,  but  rather  the  love  of  honor  resulting  from 
fighting  well,  which  animated  our  forefathers  in  every  cam- 
paign. "He  was  a  man  deserving  of  remembrance  "  was  the 
highest  thing  that  could  be  said  of  a  dead  warrior ;  and  "He 
is  a  man  deserving  of  praise  "  was  the  highest  tribute  to  the 
living.  The  whole  secret  of  Beowulf's  mighty  life  is  summed 
up  in  the  last  line,  "  Ever  yearning  for  his  people's  praise."  So 
every  tribe  had  its  scop,  or  poet,  more  important  than  any 
warrior,  who  put  the  deeds  of  its  heroes  into  the  expressive 
words  that  constitute  literature ;  and  every  banquet  hall  had 
its  gleeman,  who  sang  the  scop's  poetry  in  order  that  the  deed 
and  the  man  might  be  remembered.  Oriental  peoples  built 
monuments  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  their  dead ;  but  our 
ancestors  made  poems,  which  should  live  and  stir  men's  souls 
long  after  monuments  of  brick,  and  stone  had  crumbled  away. 
It  is  to  this  intense  love  of  glory  and  the  desire  to  be  remem- 
bered that  we  are  indebted  for  Anglo-Saxon  literature. 

Our  First  Speech.  Our  first  recorded  speech  begins  with 
the  songs  of  Widsith  and  Deor,  which  the  Anglo-Saxons  may 
have  brought  with  them  when  they  first  conquered  Britain. 
At  first  glance  these  songs  in  their  native  dress  look  strange 
as  a  foreign  tongue;  but  when  we  examine  them  carefully 
we  find  many  words  that  have  been  familiar  since  childhood. 
We  have  seen  this  in  Beowulf ;  but  in  prose  the  resemblance 

the  time  when  the  birch  tree  grew  beside  the  sea  until  the  exiled  man  found  it  and 
stripped  the  bark  and  carved  on  its  surface  a  message  to  the  woman  he  loved.  This  first 
of  all  English  love  songs  deserves  to  rank  with  Valentine's  description  of  Silvia : 

Why,  man,  she  is  mine  own, 
And  I  as  rich  in  having  such  a  jewel 
As  twenty  seas,  if  all  their  sand  were  pearl, 
The  water  nectar  and  the  rocks  pure  gold. 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  II,  4. 


28  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  this  old  speech  to  our  own  is  even  more  striking.  Here, 
for  instance,  is  a  fragment  of  the  simple  story  of  the  con- 
quest of  Britain  by  our  Anglo-Saxon  ancestors  : 

Her  Hengest  and  ^sc  his  sunu  gefuhton  with  Bryttas,  on  thaere  stowe 
the  is  gecweden  Creccanford,  and  thaer  ofslogon  feower  thusenda  wera. 
And  tha  Bryttas  tha  forleton  Cent-lond,  and  mid  myclum  ege  flugon  to 
Lundenbyrig.  (At  this  time  Hengest  and  Aesc,  his  son,  fought  against 


STONEHENGE,  ON   SALISBURY  PLAIN 
Probably  the  ruins  of  a  temple  of  the  native  Britons 

the  Britons  at  the  place  which  is  called  Crayford  and  there  slew  four 
thousand  men.  And  then  the  Britons  forsook  Kentland,  and  with  much 
fear  fled  to  London  town.)1 

The  reader  who  utters  these  words  aloud  a  few  times  will 
speedily  recognize  his  own  tongue,  not  simply  in  the  words 
but  also  in  the  whole  structure  of  the  sentences. 

From  such  records  we  see  that  our  speech  is  Teutonic  in 
its  origin  ;  and  when  we  examine  any  Teutonic  language  we 
learn  that  it  is  only  a  branch  of  the  great  Aryan  or  Indo- 
European  family  of  languages.  In  life  and  language,  there- 
fore, we  are  related  first  to  the  Teutonic  races,  and  through 
them  to  all  the  nations  of  this  Indo-European  family,  which, 
starting  with  enormous  vigor  from  their  original  home  (prob- 
ably in  central  Europe2),  spread  southward  and  westward,  driv- 
ing out  the  native  tribes  and  slowly  developing  the  mighty 
civilizations  of  India,  Persia,  Greece,  Rome,  and  the  wilder  but 
more  vigorous  life  of  the  Celts  and  Teutons.  In  all  these 

1  From  the  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle,  record  of  the  year  457. 

2  According  to  Sweet  the  original  home  of  the  Aryans  is  placed  in  central  or  northern 
Europe,  rather  than  in  Asia,  as  was  once  assumed.    See  The  History  of  Language,  p.  103. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  29 

languages  —  Sanskrit,  Iranian,  Greek,  Latin,  Celtic,  Teutonic 
—  we  recognize  the  same  root  words  for  father  and  mother,  for 
God  and  man,  for  the  common  needs  and  the  common  rela- 
tions of  life ;  and  since  words  are  windows  through  which  we 
see  the  soul  of  this  old  people,  we  find  certain  ideals  of  love, 
home,  faith,  heroism,  liberty,  which  seem  to  have  been  the 
very  life  of  our  forefathers,  and  which  were  inherited  by  them 
from  their  old  heroic  and  conquering  ancestors.  It  was  on 
the  borders  of  the  North  Sea  that  our  fathers  halted  for  un- 
numbered centuries  on  their  westward  journey,  and  slowly 
developed  the  national  life  and  language  which  we  now  call 
Anglo-Saxon. 

It  is  this  old  vigorous  Anglo-Saxon  language  which  forms 

the  basis  of  our  modern  English.     If  we  read  a  paragraph 

from  any  good  English  book,  and  then  analyze  it, 

Dual  Charac- 
ter of  our  as  we  would  a  flower,  to  see  what  it  contains,  we 
Language  find  two  Distinct  classes  of  words.  The  first  class, 
containing  simple  words  expressing  the  common  things  of  life, 
makes  up  the  strong  framework  of  our  language.  These  words 
are  like  the  stem  and  bare  branches  of  a  mighty  oak,  and  if 
we  look  them  up  in  the  dictionary  we  find  that  almost  invari- 
ably they  come  to  us  from  our  Anglo-Saxon  ancestors.  The 
second  and  larger  class  of  words  is  made  up  of  those  that  give 
grace,  variety,  ornament,  to  our  speech.  They  are  like  the 
leaves  and  blossoms  of  the  same  tree,  and  when  we  examine 
their  history  we  find  that  they  come  to  us  from  the  Celts, 
Romans,  Normans,  and  other  peoples  with  whom  we  have 
been  in  contact  in  the  long  years  of  our  development.  The 
most  prominent  characteristic  of  our  present  language,  there- 
fore, is  its  dual  character.  Its  best  qualities  —  strength,  sim- 
plicity, directness  —  come  from  Anglo-Saxon  sources ;  its 
enormous  added  wealth  of  expression,  its  comprehensiveness, 
its  plastic  adaptability  to  new  conditions  and  ideas,  are  largely 
the  result  of  additions  from  other  languages,  and  especially 
of  its  gradual  absorption  of  the  French  language  after  the 


30  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Norman  Conquest.  It  is  this  dual  character,  this  combination 
of  native  and  foreign,  of  innate  and  exotic  elements,  which  ac- 
counts for  the  wealth  of  our  English  language  and  literature. 
To  see  it  in  concrete  form,  we  should  read  in  succession 
Beowulf  and  Paradise  Lost,  the  two  great  epics  which  show 
the  root  and  the  flower  of  our  literary  development. 

III.   CHRISTIAN  WRITERS  OF  THE  ANGLO-SAXON 
PERIOD 

The  literature  of  this  period  falls  naturally  into  two  divi- 
sions, —  pagan  and  Christian.  The  former  represents  the 
poetry  which  the  Anglo-Saxons  probably  brought  with  them 
in  the  form  of  oral  sagas,  —  the  crude  material  out  of  which 
literature  was  slowly  developed  on  English  soil ;  the  latter  rep- 
resents the  writings  developed  under  teaching  of  the  monks, 
after  the  old  pagan  religion  had  vanished,  but  while  it  still 
retained  its  hold  on  the  life  and  language  of  the  people.  In 
reading  our  earliest  poetry  it  is  well  to  remember  that  all  of 
it  was  copied  by  the  monks,  and  seems  to  have  been  more  or 
less  altered  to  give  it  a  religious  coloring. 

The  coming  of  Christianity  meant  not  simply  a  new  life 
and  leader  for  England ;  it  meant  also  the  wealth  of  a  new 
language.  The  scop  is  now  replaced  by  the  literary  monk ; 
and  that  monk,  though  he  lives  among  common  people  and 
speaks  with  the  English  tongue,  has  behind  him  all  the  culture 
and  literary  resources  of  the  Latin  language.  The  effect  is 
seen  instantly  in  our  early  prose  and  poetry. 

Northumbrian  Literature.  In  general,  two  great  schools  of 
Christian  influence  came  into  England,  and  speedily  put  an 
end  to  the  frightful  wars  that  had  waged  continually  among 
the  various  petty  kingdoms  of  the  Anglo-Saxons.  The  first  of 
these,  under  the  leadership  of  Augustine,  came  from  Rome. 
It  spread  in  the  south  and  center  of  England,  especially  in 
the  kingdom  of  Essex.  It  founded  schools  and  partially  edu- 
cated the  rough  people,  but  it  produced  no  lasting  literature. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD 


The  other,  under  the  leadership  of  the  saintly  Aidan,  came  from 
Ireland,  which  country  had  been  for  centuries  a  center  of  reli- 
gion and  education  for  all  western  Europe.  The  monks  of  this 
school  labored  chiefly  in  Northumbria,  and  to  their  influence 
we  owe  all  that  is  best  in  Anglo-Saxon  literature.  It  is  called 
the  Northumbrian  School ;  .f.  pieces tmntns 7 
its  center  was  the  mon- 
asteries and  abbeys,  such 
as  Jarrow  and  Whitby, 
and  its  three  greatest 
names  are  Bede,  Caed- 
mon,  and  Cynewulf. 

BEDE  (673-735) 

The  Venerable  Bede, 
as  he  is  generally  called, 
our  first  great  scholar  and 
"  the  father  of  our  English 
learning,"  wrote  almost 
exclusively  in  Latin,  his 
last  work,  the  translation 
of  the  Gospel  of  John  into 
Anglo-Saxon,  having  been 
unfortunately  lost.  Much 
to  our  regret,  therefore, 
his  books  and  the  story  of  his  gentle,  heroic  life  must  be 
excluded  from  this  history  of  our  literature.  His  works,  over 
forty  in  number,  covered  the  whole  field  of  human  knowledge 
in  his  day,  and  were  so  admirably  written  that  they  were 
widely  copied  as  text-books,  or  rather  manuscripts,  in  nearly 
all  the  monastery  schools  of  Europe. 

The  work  most  important  to  us  is  the  Ecclesiastical  His- 
tory of  the  English  People.  It  is  a  fascinating  history  to  read 
even  now,  with  its  curious  combination  of  accurate  scholarship 
and  immense  credulity.  In  all  strictly  historical  matters  Bede 


INITIAL  LETTER  OF  A  MS.  COPY  OF 
ST.  LUKE'S  GOSPEL,  CIR.  700  A.D. 


32  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

is  a  model.  Every  known  authority  on  the  subject,  from 
Pliny  to  Gildas,  was  carefully  considered ;  every  learned  pil- 
The  First  grim  to  Rome  was  commissioned  by  Bede  to  ransack 
History  of  the  archives  and  to  make  copies  of  papal  decrees 
and  royal  letters ;  and  to  these  were  added  the  tes- 
timony of  abbots  who  could  speak  from  personal  knowledge  of 
events  or  repeat  the  traditions  of  their  several  monasteries. 

Side  by  side  with  this  historical  exactness  are  marvelous 
stories  of  saints  and  missionaries.  It  was  an  age  of  credulity, 
and  miracles  were  in  men's  minds  continually.  The  men  of 


RUINS  AT  WHITBY 

whom  he  wrote  lived  lives  more  wonderful  than  any  romance, 
and  their  courage  and  gentleness  made  a  tremendous  impres- 
sion on  the  rough,  warlike  people  to  whom  they  came  with 
open  hands  and  hearts.  It  is  the  natural  way  of  all  primitive 
peoples  to  magnify  the  works  of  their  heroes,  and  so  deeds  of 
heroism  and  kindness,  which  were  part  of  the  daily  life  of 
the  Irish  missionaries,  were  soon  transformed  into  the  miracles 
of  the  saints.  Bede  believed  these  things,  as  all  other  men  did, 
and  records  them  with  charming  simplicity,  just  as  he  received 
them  from  bishop  or  abbot.  Notwithstanding  its  errors,  we 
owe  to  this  work  nearly  all  our  knowledge  of  the  eight  cen- 
turies of  our  history  following  the  landing  of  Caesar  in  Britain. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  33 

C^DMON  (Seventh  Century) 

Now  must  we  hymn  the  Master  of  heaven, 

The  might  of  the  Maker,  the  deeds  of  the  Father, 

The  thought  of  His  heart.    He,  Lord  everlasting, 

Established  of  old  the  source  of  all  wonders : 

Creator  all-holy,  He  hung  the  bright  heaven, 

A  roof  high  upreared,  o'er  the  children  of  men  ; 

The  King  of  mankind  then  created  for  mortals 

The  world  in  its  beauty,  the  earth  spread  beneath  them, 

He,  Lord  everlasting,  omnipotent  God.1 

If  Beowulf 'and  the  fragments  of  our  earliest  poetry  were 
brought  into  England,  then  the  hymn  given  above  is  the  first 
verse  of  all  native  English  song  that  has  come  down  to  us, 
and  Caedmon  is  the  first  poet  to  whom  we  can  give  a  defi- 
nite name  and  date.  The  words  were  written  about  665  A.D. 
and  are  found  copied  at  the  end  of  a  manuscript  of  Bede's 
Ecclesiastical  History. 

Life  of  Caedmon.  What  little  we  know  of  Caedmon,  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  Milton,  as  he  is  properly  called,  is  taken  from  Bede's  account 2 
of  the  Abbess  Hilda  and  of  her  monastery  at  Whitby.  Here  is  a  free 
and  condensed  translation  of  Bede's  story  : 

There  was,  in  the  monastery  of  the  Abbess  Hilda,  a  brother  distin- 
guished by  the  grace  of  God,  for  that  he  could  make  poems  treating 
of  goodness  and  religion.  Whatever  was  translated  to  him  (for  he  could 
not  read)  of  Sacred  Scripture  he  shortly  reproduced  in  poetic  form  of 
great  sweetness  and  beauty.  None  of  all  the  English  poets  could  equal 
him,  for  he  learned  not  the  art  of  song  from  men,  nor  sang  by  the  arts  of 
men.  Rather  did  he  receive  all  his  poetry  as  a  free  gift  from  God,  and 
for  this  reason  he  did  never  compose  poetry  of  a  vain  or  worldly  kind. 

Until  of  mature  age  he  lived  as  a  layman  and  had  never  learned  any 
poetry.  Indeed,  so  ignorant  of  singing  was  he  that  sometimes,  at  a  feast, 
where  it  was  the  custom  that  for  the  pleasure  of  all  each  guest  should 
sing  in  turn,  he  would  rise  from  the  table  when  he  saw  the  harp  coming 
to  him  and  go  home  ashamed.  Now  it  happened  once  that  he  did  this 
thing  at  a  certain  festivity,  and  went  out  to  the  stall  to  care  for  the 
horses,  this  duty  being  assigned  to  him  for  that  night.  As  he  slept  at 

1  "  Caedmon's  Hymn,"  Cook's  version,  in  Translations  from  Old  English  Poetry- 

2  Ecclesiastical  History,  IV,  xxiv. 


34  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  usual  time,  one  stood  by  him  saying :  "  Caedmon,  sing  me  something." 
"  I  cannot  sing,"  he  answered,  "  and  that  is  why  I  came  hither  from  the 
feast."  But  he  who  spake  unto  him  said  again,  "  Caedmon,  sing  to  me." 
And  he  said,  "What  shall  I  sing?"  and  he  said,  "Sing  the  beginning 
of  created  things."  Thereupon  Caedmon  began  to  sing  verses  that  he 
had  never  heard  before,  of  this  import :  "  Now  should  we  praise  the 
power  and  wisdom  of  the  Creator,  the  works  of  the  Father."  This  is  the 
sense  but  not  the  form  of  the  hymn  that  he  sang  while  sleeping. 

When  he  awakened,  Casdmon  remembered  the  words  of  the  hymn 
and  added  to  them  many  more.  In  the  morning  he  went  to  the  steward 
of  the  monastery  lands  and  showed  him  the  gift  he  had  received  in 
sleep.  The  steward  brought  him  to  Hilda,  who  made  him  repeat  to  the 
monks  the  hymn  he  had  composed,  and  all  agreed  that  the  grace  of  God 
was  upon  Caedmon.  To  test  him  they  expounded  to  him  a  bit  of  Scrip- 
ture from  the  Latin  and  bade  him,  if  he  could,  to  turn  it  into  poetry. 
He  went  away  humbly  and  returned  in  the  morning  with  an  excellent 
poem.  Thereupon  Hilda  received  him  and  his  family  into  the  monastery, 
made  him  one  of  the  brethren,  and  commanded  that  the  whole  course  of 
Bible  history  be  expounded  to  him.  He  in  turn,  reflecting  upon  what  he 
had  heard,  transformed  it  into  most  delightful  poetry,  and  by  echoing 
it  back  to  the  monks  in  more  melodious  sounds  made  his  teachers  his 
listeners.  In  all  this  his  aim  was  to  turn  men  from  wickedness  and  to 
help  them  to  the  love  and  practice  of  well  doing. 

[Then  follows  a  brief  record  of  Caedmon's  life  and  an  exquisite  picture 
of  his  death  amidst  the  brethren.]  And  so  it  came  to  pass  [says  the 
simple  record]  that  as  he  served  God  while  living  in  purity  of  mind 
and  serenity  of  spirit,  so  by  a  peaceful  death  he  left  the  world  and  went 
to  look  upon  His  face. 

Caedmon's  Works.  The  greatest  work  attributed  to  Caedmon 
is  the  so-called  Paraphrase.  It  is  the  story  of  Genesis,  Exodus, 
and  a  part  of  Daniel,  told  in  glowing,  poetic  language,  with  a 
power  of  insight  and  imagination  which  often  raises  it  from 
paraphrase  into  the  realm  of  true  poetry.  Though  we  have 
Bede's  assurance  that  Caedmon  "  transformed  the  whole  course 
of  Bible  history  into  most  delightful  poetry,"  no  work  known 
certainly  to  have  been  composed  by  him  has  come  down  to  us. 
In  the  seventeenth  century  this  Anglo-Saxon  Paraphrase  was 
discovered  and  attributed  to  Caedmon,  and  his  name  is  still 
associated  with  it,  though  it  is  now  almost  certain  that  the 
Paraphrase  is  the  work  of  more  than  one  writer. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  35 

Aside  from  the  doubtful  question  of  authorship,  even  a 
casual  reading  of  the  poem  brings  us  into  the  presence  of 
a  poet  rude  indeed,  but  with  a  genius  strongly  suggestive  at 
times  of  the  matchless  Milton.  The  book  opens  with  a  hymn 
of  praise,  and  then  tells  of  the  fall  of  Satan  and  his  rebel  angels 
from  heaven,  which  is  familiar  to  us  in  Milton's  Paradise  Lost. 
Then  follows  the  creation  of  the  world,  and  the  Paraphrase  be- 
gins to  thrill  with  the  old  Anglo-Saxon  love  of  nature. 

Here  first  the  Eternal  Father,  guard  of  all, 
Of  heaven  and  earth,  raised  up  the  firmament, 
The  Almighty  Lord  set  firm  by  His  strong  power 
This  roomy  land  ;  grass  greened  not  yet  the  plain, 
Ocean  far  spread  hid  the  wan  ways  in  gloom. 
Then  was  the  Spirit  gloriously  bright 
Of  Heaven's  Keeper  borne  over  the  deep 
Swiftly.    The  Life-giver,  the  Angel's  Lord, 
Over  the  ample  ground  bade  come  forth  Light. 
Quickly  the  High  King's  bidding  was  obeyed, 
Over  the  waste  there  shone  light's  holy  ray. 
Then  parted  He,  Lord  of  triumphant  might, 
Shadow  from  shining,  darkness  from  the  light. 
Light,  by  the  Word  of  God,  was  first  named  day.1 

After  recounting  the  story  of  Paradise,  the  Fall,  and  the 
Deluge,  the  Paraphrase  is  continued  in  the  Exodus,  of  which 
the  poet  makes  a  noble  epic,  rushing  on  with  the  sweep  of  a 
Saxon  army  to  battle.  A  single  selection  is  given  here  to  show 
how  the  poet  adapted  the  story  to  his  hearers  : 

Then  they  saw, 

Forth  and  forward  faring,  Pharaoh's  war  array 
Gliding  on,  a  grove  of  spears  ;  —  glittering  the  hosts  ! 
Fluttered  there  the  banners,  there  the  folk  the  march  trod. 
Onwards  surged  the  war,  strode  the  spears  along, 
Blickered  the  broad  shields ;  blew  aloud  the  trumpets.  .  .  . 
Wheeling  round  in  gyres,  yelled  the  fowls  of  war, 
Of  the  battle  greedy  ;  hoarsely  barked  the  raven, 
Dew  upon  his  feathers,  o'er  the  fallen  corpses  — 
Swart  that  chooser  of  the  slain !  Sang  aloud  the  wolves 
At  eve  their  horrid  song,  hoping  for  the  carrion.2 

1  Genesis,  112-131  (Morley).  2  Exodus,  155  fif.  (Brooke). 


36  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Besides  the  Paraphrase  we  have  a  few  fragments  of  the 
same  general  character  which  are  attributed  to  the  school  of 
Csedmon.  The  longest  of  these  is  Judith,  in  which  the  story 
of  an  apocryphal  book  of  the  Old  Testament  is  done  into 
vigorous  poetry.  Holofernes  is  represented  as  a  savage  and 
cruel  Viking,  reveling  in  his  mead  hall ;  and  when  the  heroic 
Judith  cuts  off  his  head  with  his  own  sword  and  throws  it 
down  before  the  warriors  of  her  people,  rousing  them  to 
battle  and  victory,  we  reach  perhaps  the  most  dramatic  and 
brilliant  point  of  Anglo-Saxon  literature. 

CYNEWULF  (Eighth  Century) 

Of  Cynewulf,  greatest  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  poets,  excepting 
only  the  unknown  author  of  Beowulf,  we  know  very  little. 
Indeed,  it  was  not  till  1840,  more  than  a  thousand  years  after 
his  death,  that  even  his  name  became  known.  Though  he  is 
the  only  one  of  our  early  poets  who  signed  his  works,  the 
name  was  never  plainly  written,  but  woven  into  the  verses  in 
the  form  of  secret  runes,1  suggesting  a  modern  charade,  but 
more  difficult  of  interpretation  until  one  has  found  the  key 
to  the  poet's  signature. 

Works  of  Cynewulf.  The  only  signed  poems  of  Cynewulf 
are  The  Christ,  Juliana,  The  Fates  of  the  Apostles,  and  Elene. 
Unsigned  poems  attributed  to  him  or  his  school  are  Andreas, 

1  Runes  were  primitive  letters  of  the  old  northern  alphabet.  In  a  few  passages  Cyne- 
wulf uses  each  rune  to  represent  not  only  a  letter  but  a  word  beginning  with  that  letter. 
Thus  the  rune-equivalent  of  C  stands  for  cene  (keen,  courageous),  Y  for  yfel  (evil,  in 
the  sense  of  wretched),  N  for  nyd  (need),  W  for  ivyn  (joy),  U  for  ur  (our),  L  for  lagu 
(lake),  F  for  feoh  (fee,  wealth).  Using  the  runes  equivalent  to  these  seven  letters, 
Cynewulf  hides  and  at  the  same  time  reveals  his  name  in  certain  verses  of  The  Christ, 
for  instance: 

Then  the  Courage-hearted  quakes,  when  the  King  (Lord)  he  hears 
Speak  to  those  who  once  on  earth  but  obeyed  Him  weakly, 
While  as  yet  their  Yearning  pain  and  their  Need  most  easily 
Comfort  might  discover.  .  .  .  Gone  is  then  the  Winsomeness 
Of  the  earth's  adornments  !   What  to  Us  as  men  belonged 
Of  the  joys  of  life  was  locked,  long  ago,  in  Lake-flood. 
All  the  Fee  on  earth. 

See  Brooke's  History  of  Early  English  Literature,  pp.  377-379,  or  The  Christ  of 
Cynewulf,  ed.  by  Cook,  also  by  Gollancz. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  37 

the  Phoenix,  the  Dream  of  the  Rood,  the  Descent  into  Hell, 
Guthlac,  the  Wanderer,  and  some  of  the  Riddles.  The  last  are 
simply  literary  conundrums  in  which  some  well-known  object, 
like  the  bow  or  drinking  horn,  is  described  in  poetic  language, 
and  the  hearer  must  guess  the  name.  Some  of  them,  like  "  The 
Swan  "  J  and  "  The  Storm  Spirit,"  are  unusually  beautiful. 

Of  all  these  works  the  most  characteristic  is  undoubtedly 
The  Christ,  a  didactic  poem  in  three  parts  :  the  first  celebrat- 
ing the  Nativity ;  the  second,  the  Ascension ;  and 

The  Christ  ,  .    ,    «TX  -.        „       «• 

the  third,  Doomsday,  telling  the  torments  of  the 
wicked  and  the  unending  joy  of  the  redeemed.  Cynewulf  takes 
his  subject-matter  partly  from  the  Church  liturgy,  but  more 
largely  from  the  homilies  of  Gregory  the  Great.  The  whole  is 
well  woven  together,  and  contains  some  hymns  of  great  beauty 
and  many  passages  of  intense  dramatic  force.  Throughout  the 
poem  a  deep  love  for  Christ  and  a  reverence  for  the  Virgin 
Mary  are  manifest.  More  than  any  other  poem  in  any  language, 
The  Christ  reflects  the  spirit  of  early  Latin  Christianity. 

Here  is  a  fragment  comparing  life  to  a  sea  voyage,  —  a 
comparison  which  occurs  sooner  or  later  to  every  thoughtful 
person,  and  which  finds  perfect  expression  in  Tennyson's 
"Crossing  the  Bar." 

Now  't  is  most  like  as  if  we  fare  in  ships 
On  the  ocean  flood,  over  the  water  cold, 
Driving  our  vessels  through  the  spacious  seas 
With  horses  of  the  deep.    A  perilous  way  is  this 
Of  boundless  waves,  and  there  are  stormy  seas 
On  which  we  toss  here  in  this  (reeling)  world 
O'er  the  deep  paths.    Ours  was  a  sorry  plight 

1  My  robe  is  noiseless  while  I  tread  the  earth, 
Or  tarry  'neath  the  banks,  or  stir  the  shallows ; 
But  when  these  shining  wings,  this  depth  of  air, 
Bear  me  aloft  above  the  bending  shores 
Where  men  abide,  and  far  the  welkin's  strength 
Over  the  multitudes  conveys  me,  then 
With  rushing  whir  and  clear  melodious  sound 
My  raiment  sings.    And  like  a  wandering  spirit 
I  float  unweariedly  o'er  flood  and  field. 

(Brougham's  version,  in  Transl.from  Old  Eng.  Poetry.) 


38  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Until  at  last  we  sailed  unto  the  land, 
Over  the  troubled  main.    Help  came  to  us 
That  brought  us  to  the  haven  of  salvation, 
God's  Spirit-Son,  and  granted  grace  to  us 
That  we  might  know  e'en  from  the  vessel's  deck 
Where  we  must  bind  with  anchorage  secure 
Our  ocean  steeds,  old  stallions  of  the  waves. 

In  the  two  epic  poems  of  Andreas  and  Elene  Cynewulf 
(if  he  be  the  author)  reaches  the  very  summit  of  his  poetical 
Andreas  and  art.  Andreas,  an  unsigned  poem,  records  the  story 
of  St.  Andrew,  who  crosses  the  sea  to  rescue  his 
comrade  St.  Matthew  from  the  cannibals.  A  young  ship- 
master who  sails  the  boat  turns  out  to  be  Christ  in  disguise. 
Matthew  is  set  free,  and  the  savages  are  converted  by  a  mir- 
acle.1 It  is  a  spirited  poem,  full  of  rush  and  incident,  and  the 
descriptions  of  the  sea  are  the  best  in  Anglo-Saxon  poetry. 

Elene  has  for  its  subject-matter  the  finding  of  the  true 
cross.  It  tells  of  Constantine's  vision  of  the  Rood,  on  the  eve 
of  battle.  After  his  victory  under  the  new  emblem  he  sends  his 
mother  Helena  (Elene)  to  Jerusalem  in  search  of  the  original 
cross  and  the  nails.  The  poem,  which  is  of  very  uneven  quality, 
might  properly  be  put  at  the  end  of  Cynewulf 's  works.  He 
adds  to  the  poem  a  personal  note,  signing  his  name  in  runes ; 
and,  if  we  accept  the  wonderful  "Vision  of  the  Rood  "  as  Cyne- 
wulf's  work,  we  learn  how  he  found  the  cross  at  last  in  his  own 
heart.  There  is  a  suggestion  here  of  the  future  Sir  Launfal 
and  the  search  for  the  Holy  Grail. 

Decline  of  Northumbrian  Literature.  The  same  northern 
energy  which  had  built  up  learning  and  literature  so  rapidly 
in  Northumbria  was  instrumental  in  pulling  it  down  again. 
Toward  the  end  of  the  century  in  which  Cynewulf  lived,  the 
Danes  swept  down  on  the  English  coasts  and  overwhelmed 
Northumbria.  Monasteries  and  schools  were  destroyed  ;  schol- 
ars and  teachers  alike  were  put  to  the  sword,  and  libraries  that 

1  The  source  of  Andreas  is  an  early  Greek  legend  of  St.  Andrew  that  found  its 
way  to  England  and  was  probably  known  to  Cynewulf  in  some  brief  Latin  form,  now  lost. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD 


39 


had  been  gathered  leaf  by  leaf  with  the  toil  of  centuries  were 
scattered  to  the  four  winds.  So  all  true  Northumbrian  litera- 
ture perished,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  fragments,  and  that 
which  we  now  possess  l  is  largely  a  translation  in  the  dialect 
of  the  West  Saxons.  This  translation 
was  made  by  Alfred's  scholars,  after 
he  had  driven  back  the  Danes  in  an 
effort  to  preserve  the  ideals  and  the 
civilization  that  had  been  so  hardly 
won.  With  the  conquest  of  North- 
umbria  ends  the  poetic  period  of 
Anglo-Saxon  literature.  With  Alfred 
the  Great  of  Wessex  our  prose  litera- 
ture makes  a  beginning. 


ALFRED  (848-901) 

"  Every  craft  and  every  power  soon  grows 
old  and  is  passed  over  and  forgotten,  if  it 
be  without  wisdom.  .  .  .  This  is  now  to  be 
said,  that  whilst  I  live  I  wish  to  live  nobly, 
and  after  life  to  leave  to  the  men  who  come 
after  me  a  memory  of  good  works."  2 

So  wrote  the  great  Alfred,  looking  ^ 
back  over  his  heroic  life.    That  he 
lived  nobly  none  can  doubt  who  reads 
the  history  of  the  greatest  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  kings;    and   his    good  works  C^DMON  CROSS  AT  WHITBY 
include,  among  others,  the  education 

of  half  a  country,  the  salvage  of  a  noble  native  literature, 
and  the  creation  of  the  first  English  prose. 

1  Our  two  chief  sources  are  the  famous  Exeter  Book,  in  Exeter  Cathedral,  a  collection 
of  Anglo-Saxon  poems  presented  by  Bishop  Leofric  (*:.  1050),  and  the  Vercelli  Book, 
discovered  in  the  monastery  of  Vercelli,  Italy,  in  1822.    The  only  known  manuscript  of 
Beowulf  'was  discovered  c.  1600,  and  is  now  in  the  Cotton  Library  of  the  British  Museum. 
All  these  are  fragmentary  copies,  and  show  the  marks  of  fire  and  of  hard  usage.    The 
Exeter  Book  contains  the  Christ,  Guthlac,  the  Phoenix,  Juliana,  Widsith,  The  Seafarer, 
Dear's  Lament,  The  Wife's  Complaint,  The  Lover's  Message,  ninety-five  Riddles,  and 
many  short  hymns  and  fragments,  —  an  astonishing  variety  for  a  single  manuscript. 

2  From  Alfred's  Boethius. 


40  ENGLISH.  LITERATURE 

Life  and  Times  of  Alfred.  For  the  history  of  Alfred's  times,  and 
details  of  the  terrific  struggle  with  the  Northmen,  the  reader  must 
be  referred  to  the  histories.  The  struggle  ended  with  the  Treaty  of 
Wedmore,  in  878,  with  the  establishment  of  Alfred  not  only  as  king 
of  Wessex,  but  as  overlord  of  the  whole  northern  country.  Then  the 
hero  laid  down  his  sword,  and  set  himself  as  a  little  child  to  learn 
to  read  and  write  Latin,  so  that  he  might  lead  his  people  in  peace  as 
he  had  led  them  in  war.  It  is  then  that  Alfred  began  to  be  the  heroic 
figure  in  literature  that  he  had  formerly  been  in  the  wars  against 
the  Northmen. 

With  the  same  patience  and  heroism  that  had  marked  the  long 
struggle  for  freedom,  Alfred  set  himself  to  the  task  of  educating  his 
people.  First  he  gave  them  laws,  beginning  with  the  Ten  Command- 
ments and  ending  with  the  Golden  Rule,  and  then  established  courts 
where  laws  could  be  faithfully  administered.  Safe  from  the  Danes 
by  land,  he  created  a  navy,  almost  the  first  of  the  English  fleets,  to 
drive  them  from  the  coast.  Then,  with  peace  and  justice  established 
within  his  borders,  he  sent  to  Europe  for  scholars  and  teachers,  and 
set  them  over  schools  that  he  established.  Hitherto  all  education 
had  been  in  Latin ;  now  he  set  himself  the  task,  first,  of  teaching 
every  free-born  Englishman  to  read  and  write  his  own  language,  and 
second,  of  translating  into  English  the  best  books  for  their  instruc- 
tion. Every  poor  scholar  was  honored  at  his  court  and  was  speedily 
set  to  work  at  teaching  or  translating;  every  wanderer  bringing  a 
book  or  a  leaf  of  manuscript  from  the  pillaged  monasteries  of  North- 
umbria  was  sure  of  his  reward.  In  this  way  the  few  fragments  of 
native  Northumbrian  literature,  which  we  have  been  studying,  were 
saved  to  the  world.  Alfred  and  his  scholars  treasured  the  rare  frag- 
ments and  copied  them  in  the  West-Saxon  dialect.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  Caedmon's  Hymn,  we  have  hardly  a  single  leaf  from  the  great 
literature  of  Northumbria  in  the  dialect  in  which  it  was  first  written. 

Works  of  Alfred.  Aside  from  his  educational  work,  Alfred 
is  known  chiefly  as  a  translator.  After  fighting  his  country's 
battles,  and  at  a  time  when  most  men  were  content  with  mil- 
itary honor,  he  began  to  learn  Latin,  that  he  might  translate 
the  works  that  would  be  most  helpful  to  his  people.  His 
important  translations  are  four  in  number :  Orosius's  Univer- 
sal History  and  Geography,  the  leading  work  in  general  history 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  41 

for  several  centuries ;  Bede's  History,1  the  first  great  histor- 
ical work  written  on  English  soil ;  Pope  Gregory's  Shep- 
herds Book,  intended  especially  for  the  clergy ;  and  Boethius's 
Consolations  of  Philosophy,  the  favorite  philosophical  work  of 
the  Middle  Ages. 

More  important  than  any  translation  is  the  English  or  Saxon 
Chronicle.  This  was  probably  at  first  a  dry  record,  especially  of 
The  Saxon  important  births  and  deaths  in  the  West-Saxon 
Chronicle  kingdom.  Alfred  enlarged  this  scant  record,  begin- 
ning the  story  with  Caesar's  conquest.  When  it  touches  his 
own  reign  the  dry  chronicle  becomes  an  interesting  and 
connected  story,  the  oldest  history  belonging  to  any  modern 
nation  in  its  own  language.  The  record  of  Alfred's  reign, 
probably  by  himself,  is  a  splendid  bit  of  writing  and  shows 
clearly  his  claim  to  a  place  in  literature  as  well  as  in  history. 
The  Chronicle  was  continued  after  Alfred's  death,  and  is  the 
best  monument  of  early  English  prose  that  is  left  to  us.  Here 
and  there  stirring  songs  are  included  in  the  narrative,  like 
"The  Battle  of  Brunanburh"  and  "The  Battle  of  Maldon."  2 
The  last,  entered  991,  seventy-five  years  before  the  Norman 
Conquest,  is  the  swan  song  of  Anglo-Saxon  poetry.  The 
Chronicle  was  continued  for  a  century  after  the  Norman  Con- 
quest, and  is  extremely  valuable  not  only  as  a  record  of 
events  but  as  a  literary  monument  showing  the  development 
of  our  language. 

Close  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  Period.  After  Alfred's  death  there 
is  little  to  record,  except  the  loss  of  the  two  supreme  objects 
of  his  heroic  struggle,  namely,  a  national  life  and  a  national 
literature.  It  was  at  once  the  strength  and  the  weakness  of 
the  Saxon  that  he  lived  apart  as  a  free  man  and  never  joined 
efforts  willingly  with  any  large  body  of  his  fellows.  The  tribe 
was  his  largest  idea  of  nationality,  and,  with  all  our  admiration, 

1  It  is  not  certain  that  the  translation  of  Bede  is  the  work  of  Alfred. 

2  See   Translations  from  Old  English  Poetry.    Only  a  brief  account  of  the  fight  is 
given  in  the  Chronicle.    The  song  known  as  "  The  Battle  of  Maldon,"  or  "  Byrhtnoth's 
Death,"  is  recorded  in  another  manuscript. 


42  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

we  must  confess  as  we  first  meet  him  that  he  has  not  enough 
sense  of  unity  to  make  a  great  nation,  nor  enough  culture  to 
produce  a  great  literature.  A  few  noble  political  ideals  re- 
peated in  a  score  of  petty  kingdoms,  and  a  few  literary  ideals 
copied  but  never  increased,  —  that  is  the  summary  of  his  liter- 
ary history.  For  a  full  century  after  Alfred  literature  was  prac- 
tically at  a  standstill,  having  produced  the  best  of  which  it  was 
capable,  and  England  waited  for  the  national  impulse  and  for 
the  culture  necessary  for  a  new  and  greater  art.  Both  of  these 
came  speedily,  by  way  of  the  sea,  in  the  Norman  Conquest. 

Summary  of  Anglo-Saxon  Period.  Our  literature  begins  with  songs  and 
stories  of  a  time  when  our  Teutonic  ancestors  were  living  on  the  borders  of 
the  North  Sea.  Three  tribes  of  these  ancestors,  the  Jutes,  Angles,  and  Saxons, 
conquered  Britain  in  the  latter  half  of  the  fifth  century,  and  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  the  English  nation.  The  first  landing  was  probably  by  a  tribe  of  Jutes, 
under  chiefs  called  by  the  chronicle  Hengist  and  Horsa.  The  date  is  doubt- 
ful ;  but  the  year  449  is  accepted  by  most  historians. 

•These  old  ancestors  were  hardy  warriors  and  sea  rovers,  yet  were  capable 
of  profound  and  noble  emotions.  Their  poetry  reflects  this  double  nature. 
Its  subjects  were  chiefly  the  sea  and  the  plunging  boats,  battles,  adventure, 
brave  deeds,  the  glory  of  warriors,  and  the  love  of  home.  Accent,  alliteration, 
and  an  abrupt  break  in  the  middle  of  each  line  gave  their  poetry  a  kind  of 
martial  rhythm.  In  general  the  poetry  is  earnest  and  somber,  and  pervaded 
by  fatalism  and  religious  feeling.  A  careful  reading  of  the  few  remaining 
fragments  of  Anglo-Saxon  literature  reveals  five  striking  characteristics : 
the  love  of  freedom ;  responsiveness  to  nature,  especially  in  her  sterner 
moods ;  strong  religious  convictions,  and  a  belief  in  Wyrd,  or  Fate ;  rever- 
ence for  womanhood;  and  a  devotion  to  glory  as  the  ruling  motive  in  every 
warrior's  life. 

In  our  study  we  have  noted:  (i)  the  great  epic  or  heroic  poem  Beowulf, 
and  a  few  fragments  of  our  first  poetry,  such  as  "  Widsith,"  "  Deor's  Lament," 
and  "  The  Seafarer."  (2)  Characteristics  of  Anglo-Saxon  life  ;  the  form  of  our 
first  speech.  (3)  The  Northumbrian  school  of  writers.  Bede,  our  first  historian, 
belongs  to  this  school ;  but  all  his  extant  works  are  in  Latin.  The  two  great 
poets  are  Caedmon  and  Cynewulf.  Northumbrian  literature  flourished  between 
650  and  850.  In  the  year  867  Northumbria  was  conquered  by  the  Danes,  who 
destroyed  the  monasteries  and  the  libraries  containing  our  earliest  literature. 
(4)  The  beginnings  of  English  prose  writing  under  Alfred  (848-901).  Our  most 
important  prose  work  of  this  age  is  the  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle,  which  was 
revised  and  enlarged  by  Alfred,  and  which  was  continued  for  more  than  two 
centuries.  It  is  the  oldest  historical  record  known  to  any  European  nation  in 
its  own  tongue. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD  43 

Selections  for  Reading.  Miscellaneoiis  Poetry.  The  Seafarer,  Love  Letter 
(Husband's  Message),  Battle  of  Brunanburh,  Deor's  Lament,  Riddles,  Exodus, 
The  Christ,  Andreas,  Dream  of  the  Rood,  extracts  in  Cook  and  Tinker's 
Translations  from  Old  English  Poetry  *  (Ginn  and  Company) ;  Judith,  trans- 
lation by  A.  S.  Cook.  Good  selections  are  found  also  in  Brooke's  History  of 
Early  English  Literature,  and  Morley's  English  Writers,  vols.  i  and  2. 

Beowulf.  J.  R.  C.  Hall's  prose  translation;  Child's  Beowulf  (Riverside 
Literature  Series) ;  Morris  and  Wyatt's  The  Tale  of  Beowulf ;  Earle's  The 
Deeds  of  Beowulf;  Metrical  versions  by  Garnett,  J.  L.  Hall,  Lumsden,  etc. 

Prose.  A  few  paragraphs  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle  in  Manly's  English 
Prose ;  translations  in  Cook  and  Tinker's  Old  English  Prose. 

Bibliography.2  History.  For  the  facts  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  conquest  of 
England  consult  first  a  good  text-book :  Montgomery,  pp.  31—57,  or  Cheyney, 
pp.  36-84.  For  fuller  treatment  see  Green,  ch.  I  ;  Traill,  vol.  I ;  Ramsey's 
Foundations  of  England ;  Turner's  History  of  the  Anglo-Saxons ;  Freeman's 
Old  English  History ;  Allen's  Anglo-Saxon  England ;  Cook's  Life  of  Alfred ; 
Asser's  Life  of  King  Alfred,  edited  by  W.  H.  Stevenson ;  C.  Plummer's  Life 
and  Times  of  Alfred  the  Great ;  E.  Dale's  National  Life  and  Character  in  the 
Mirror  of  Early  English  Literature ;  Rhys's  Celtic  Britain. 

Literature.  Anglo-Saxon  Texts.  Library  of  Anglo-Saxon  Poetry,  and  Albion 
Series  of  Anglo-Saxon  and  Middle  English  Poetry  (Ginn  and  Company); 
Belles  Lettres  Series  of  English  Classics,  sec.  I  (Heath  &  Co.) ;  J.  W.  Bright's 
Anglo-Saxon  Reader ;  Sweet's  Anglo-Saxon  Primer,  and  Anglo-Saxon  Reader. 

General  Works.  Jusserand,  Ten  Brink,  Cambridge  History,  Morley  (full 
titles  and  publishers  in  General  Bibliography). 

Special  Works.  Brooke's  History  of  Early  English  Literature ;  Earle's 
Anglo-Saxon  Literature ;  Lewis's  Beginnings  of  English  Literature ;  Arnold's 
Celtic  Literature  (for  relations  of  Saxon  and  Celt) ;  Longfellow's  Poets  and 
Poetry  of  Europe;  Hall's  Old  English  Idyls;  Gayley's  Classic  Myths,  or 
Guerber's  Myths  of  the  Northlands  (for  Norse  Mythology) ;  Brother  Azarias's 
Development  of  Old  English  Thought. 

Beowulf,  prose  translations  by  Tinker,  Hall,  Earle,  Morris  and  Wyatt ; 
metrical  versions  by  Garnett,  J.  L.  Hall,  Lumsden,  etc.  The  Exeter  Book  (a 
collection  of  Anglo-Saxon  texts),  edited  and  translated  by  Gollancz.  The 
Christ  of  Cynewulf,  prose  translation  by  Whitman ;  the  same  poem,  text  and 
translation,  by  Gollancz  ;  text  by  Cook.  Caedmon's  Paraphrase,  text  and  trans- 
lation, by  Thorpe.  Garnett's  Elene,  Judith,  and  other  Anglo-Saxon  Poems. 
Translations  of  Andreas  and  the  Phoenix,  in  Gollancz's  Exeter  Book.  Bede's 
History,  in  Temple  Classics ;  the  same  with  the  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle  (one 
volume)  in  Bohn's  Antiquarian  Library. 

1  This  is  an  admirable  little  book,  containing  the  cream  of  Anglo-Saxon  poetry, 
in  free  translations,  with  notes.    Translations  from  Old  English  Prose  is  a  companion 
volume. 

2  For  full  titles  and  publishers  of  general  reference  books,  and  for  a  list  of  inexpen- 
sive texts  and  helps,  see  General  Bibliography  at  the  end  of  this  book. 


44  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Suggestive  Questions.1  i.  What  is  the  relation  of  history  and  literature? 
Why  should  both  subjects  be  studied  together?  Explain  the  qualities  that 
characterize  all  great  literature.  Has  any  text-book  in  history  ever  appealed 
to  you  as  a  work  of  literature  ?  What  literary  qualities  have  you  noticed  in 
standard  historical  works,  such  as  those  of  Macaulay,  Prescott,  Gibbon,  Green, 
Motley,  Parkman,  and  John  Fiske  ? 

2.  Why  did  the  Anglo-Saxons  come  to  England  ?   What  induced  them  to 
remain  ?   Did  any  change  occur  in  their  ideals,  or  in  their  manner  of  life  ?    Do 
you  know  any  social  or  political  institutions  which  they  brought,  and  which 
we  still  cherish  ? 

3.  From  the  literature  you  have  read,  what  do  you  know  about  our  Anglo- 
Saxon  ancestors  ?    What  virtues  did  they  admire  in  men  ?    How  was  woman 
regarded?    Can  you  compare  the  Anglo-Saxon  ideal  of  woman  with  that  of 
other  nations,  the  Romans  for  instance  ? 

4.  Tell  in  your  own  words  the  general  qualities  of  Anglo-Saxon  poetry.   How 
did  it  differ  in  its  metrical  form  from  modern  poetry  ?    What  passages  seem  to 
you  worth  learning  and  remembering  ?    Can  you  explain  why  poetry  is  more 
abundant  and  more  interesting  than  prose  in  the  earliest  literature  of  all 
nations  ? 

5.  Tell  the  story  of  Beowulf.   What  appeals  to  you  most  in  the  poem  ?    Why 
is  it  a  work  for  all  time,  or,  as  the  Anglo-Saxons  would  say,  why  is  it  worthy 
to  be  remembered  ?    (Note  the  permanent  quality  of  literature,  and  the  ideals 
and  emotions  which  are   emphasized  in  Beowulf?)    Describe  the  burials  of 
Scyld  and  of  Beowulf.    Does  the  poem  teach  any  moral  lesson  ?   Explain  the 
Christian  elements  in  this  pagan  epic. 

6.  Name  some  other  of  our  earliest  poems,  and  describe  the  one  you  like 
best.    How  does  the  sea  figure  in  our  first  poetry  ?    How  is  nature  regarded  ? 
What  poem  reveals  the  life  of  the  scop  or  poet  ?    How  do  you  account  for 
the  serious  character  of  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  ?    Compare  the  Saxon  and  the 
Celt  with  regard  to  the  gladsomeness  of  life  as  shown  in  their  literature. 

7.  What  useful  purpose  did  poetry  serve  among  our  ancestors  ?    WThat 
purpose  did  the  harp  serve  in  reciting  their  poems  ?    Would  the  harp  add  any- 
thing to  our  modern  poetry  ? 

8.  What  is  meant  by  Northumbrian  literature  ?  Who  are  the  great  Northum- 
brian writers  ?    What  besides  the   Danish  conquest  caused  the   decline  of 
Northumbrian  literature  ? 

9.  For  what  is  Bede  worthy  to  be  remembered  ?    Tell  the  story  of  Csedmon, 
as  recorded  in  Bede's  History.    What  new  element  is  introduced  in  Caedmon's 
poems  ?    What  effect  did  Christianity  have  upon  Anglo-Saxon  literature  ?    Can 
you  quote  any  passages  from  Caedmon  to  show  that  Anglo-Saxon  character  was 
not  changed  but  given  a  new  direction  ?  If  you  have  read  Milton's  Paradise  Lost, 
what  resemblances  are  there  between  that  poem  and  Caedmon's  Paraphrase? 

1  The  chief  object  of  these  questions  is  not  to  serve  as  a  review,  or  to  prepare  for 
examination,  but  rather  to  set  the  student  thinking  for  himself  about  what  he  has  read. 
A  few  questions  of  an  advanced  nature  are  inserted,  which  call  for  special  study  and  re- 
search in  interesting  fields. 


THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD 


45 


10.  What  are  the  Cynewulf  poems  ?    Describe  any  that  you  have  read. 
How  do  they  compare  in  spirit  and  in  expression  with  Beowulf?  with  Caed- 
mon  ?    Read  The  Phoenix  (which  is  a  translation  from  the  Latin)  in  Brooke's 
History  of  Early   English   Literature,  or  in  Gollancz's   Exeter  Book,  or  in 
Cook's  Translations  from  Old  English  Poetry,  and  tell  what  elements  you 
find  to  show  that  the  poem  is  not  of  Anglo-Saxon  origin.    Compare  the  views 
of  nature  in  Beowulf  and  in  the  Cynewulf  poems. 

11.  Describe  the  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle.     What  is  its  value  in  our  lan- 
guage, literature,  and  history  ?   Give  an  account  of  Alfred's  life  and  of  his 
work  for  literature.    How  does  Anglo-Saxon  prose  compare  in  interest  with 
the  poetry  ? 

CHRONOLOGY 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


449(?).  Landing  of  Hengist  and  Horsa 

in  Britain 

477.  Landing  of  South  Saxons 
547.  Angles  settle  Northumbria 
597.  Landing  of  Augustine  and  his 

monks.    Conversion  of  Kent 
617.  Eadwine,  king  of  Northumbria 
635-665.  Coming  of  St.  Aidan.    Con- 
version of  Northumbria 


867.  Danes  conquer  Northumbria 

871.  Alfred,  king  of  Wessex 

878.  Defeat   of  Danes.     Peace  of 

Wedmore 
901.  Death  of  Alfred 


1013-1042.  Danish  period 

1016.  Cnut,  king 

1042.  Edward  the  Confessor.    Saxon 

period  restored 

1049.  Westminster  Abbey  begun 
1066.  Harold,   last   of    Saxon   kings. 

Norman  Conquest 


547.  Gildas's  History 


664.  Caedmon  at  Whitby 

673-735-  Bede 

7 50 («>.).  Cynewulf  poems 

860.  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle  begun 


991.  Last  known  poem  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  period,  The  Battle  of 
Maldon,  otherwise  called 
Byrhtnoth's  Death 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  ANGLO-NORMAN  PERIOD  (1066-1350) 
I.    HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION 

The  Normans.  The  name  Norman,  which  is  a  softened  form  of 
Northman,  tells  its  own  story.  The  men  who  bore  the  name  came 
originally  from  Scandinavia,  —  bands  of  big,  blond,  fearless  men 
cruising  after  plunder  and  adventure  in  their  Viking  ships,  and 
bringing  terror  wherever  they  appeared.  It  was  these  same  "  Chil- 
dren of  Woden  "  who,  under  the  Danes'  raven  flag,  had  blotted  out 
Northumbrian  civilization  in  the  ninth  century.  Later  the  same  race 
of  men  came  plundering  along  the  French  coast  and  conquered  the 
whole  northern  country ;  but  here  the  results  were  altogether  differ- 
ent. Instead  of  blotting  out  a  superior  civilization,  as  the  Danes  had 
done,  they  promptly  abandoned  their  own.  Their  name  of  Nor- 
mandy still  clings  to  the  new  home;  but  all  else  that  was  Norse 
disappeared  as  the  conquerors  intermarried  with  the  native  Franks 
and  accepted  French  ideals  and  spoke  the  French  language.  So 
rapidly  did  they  adopt  and  improve  the  Roman  civilization  of  the 
natives  that,  from  a  rude  tribe  of  heathen  Vikings,  they  had  devel- 
oped within  a  single  century  into  the  most  polished  and  intellectual 
people  in  all  Europe.  The  union  of  Norse  and  French  (i.e.  Roman- 
Gallic)  blood  had  here  produced  a  race  having  the  best  qualities  of 
both,  —  the  will  power  and  energy  of  the  one,  the  eager  curiosity  and 
vivid  imagination  of  the  other.  When  these  Norman-French  people 
appeared  in  Anglo-Saxon  England  they  brought  with  them  three 
noteworthy  things  :  a  lively  Celtic  disposition,  a  vigorous  and  pro- 
gressive Latin  civilization,  and  a  Romance  language.1  We  are  to 
think  of  the  conquerors,  therefore,  as  they  thought  and  spoke  of 
themselves  in  the  Domesday  Book  and  all  their  contemporary  liter- 
ature, not  as  Normans  but  as  Frand,  that  is,  Frenchmen. 

1  A  Romance  language  is  one  whose  basis  is  Latin,  —  not  the  classic  language  of  litera- 
ture, but  a  vulgar  or  popular  Latin  spoken  in  the  military  camps  and  provinces.  Thus 
Italian,  Spanish,  and  French  were  originally  different  dialects  of  the  vulgar  Latin,  slightly 
modified  by  the  mingling  of  the  Roman  soldiers  with  the  natives  of  the  conquered  provinces, 

46 


THE  ANGLO-NORMAN  PERIOD  47 

The  Conquest.  At  the  battle  of  Hastings  (1066)  the  power  of 
Harold,  last  of  the  Saxon  kings,  was  broken,  and  William,  duke  of 
Normandy,  became  master  of  England.  Of  the  completion  of  that 
stupendous  Conquest  which  began  at  Hastings,  and  which  changed 
the  civilization  of  a  whole  nation,  this  is  not  the  place  to  speak. 
We  simply  point  out  three  great  results  of  the  Conquest  which  have 
a  direct  bearing  on  our  literature.  First,  notwithstanding  Caesar's 
legions  and  Augustine's  monks,  the  Normans  were  the  first  to  bring 
the  culture  and  the  practical  ideals  of  Roman  civilization  home  to 
the  English  people ;  and  this  at  a  critical  time,  when  England  had 
produced  her  best,  and  her  own  literature  and  civilization  had  already 
begun  to  decay.  Second,  they  forced  upon 
England  the  national  idea,  that  is,  a  strong, 
centralized  government  to  replace  the 
loose  authority  of  a  Saxon  chief  over 
his  tribesmen.  And  the  world's  his- 
tory shows  that  without  a  great 
nationality  a  great 
literature  is  impossi- 
ble. Third,  they 
brought  to  England 
the  wealth  of  a  new 
language  and  litera- 
ture, and  our  English 
gradually  absorbed 

both.  For  three  cen- 

,       TT      ;  LEIF  ERICSON'S  VESSEL 

tunes  after  Hastings 

French  was  the  language  of  the  upper  classes,  of  courts  and  schools 
and  literature ;  yet  so  tenaciously  did  the  common  people  cling  to 
their  own  strong  speech  that  in  the  end  English  absorbed  almost  the 
whole  body  of  French  words  and  became  the  language  of  the  land. 
It  was  the  welding  of  Saxon  and  French  into  one  speech  that  pro- 
duced the  wealth  of  our  modern  English. 

Naturally  such  momentous  changes  in  a  nation  were  not  brought 
about  suddenly.  At  first  Normans  and  Saxons  lived  apart  in  the  rela- 
tion of  masters  and  servants,  with  more  or  less  contempt  on  one  side 
and  hatred  on  the  other ;  but  in  an  astonishingly  short  time  these  two 
races  were  drawn  powerfully  together,  like  two  men  of  different  dis- 
positions who  are  often  led  into  a  steadfast  friendship  by  the  attrac- 
tion of  opposite  qualities,  each  supplying  what  the  other  lacks.  The 


48  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle,  which  was  continued  for  a  century  after 
Hastings,  finds  much  to  praise  in  the  conquerors ;  on  the  other  hand 
the  Normans,  even  before  the  Conquest,  had  no  great  love  for  the 
French  nation.  After  conquering  England  they  began  to  regard  it  as 
home  and  speedily  developed  a  new  sense  of  nationality.  Geoffrey's 
popular  History?  written  less  than  a  century  after  the  Conquest, 
made  conquerors  and  conquered  alike  proud  of  their  country  by 
its  stories  of  heroes  who,  curiously  enough,  were  neither  Norman 
nor  Saxon,  but  creations  of  the  native  Celts.  Thus  does  literature, 
whether  in  a  battle  song  or  a  history,  often  play  the  chief  role  in  the 
development  of  nationality.2  Once  the  mutual  distrust  was  overcome 
the  two  races  gradually  united,  and  out  of  this  union  of  Saxons  and 
Normans  came  the  new  English  life  and  literature. 

Literary  Ideals  of  the  Normans.  The  change  in  the  life  of  the  con- 
querors from  Norsemen  to  Normans,  from  Vikings  to  Frenchmen, 
is  shown  most  clearly  in  the  literature  which  they  brought  with  them 
to  England.  The  old  Norse  strength  and  grandeur,  the  magnificent 
sagas  telling  of  the  tragic  struggles  of  men  and  gods,  which  still  stir 
us  profoundly,  —  these  have  all  disappeared.  In  their  place  is  a 
bright,  varied,  talkative  literature,  which  runs  to  endless  verses,  and 
which  makes  a  wonderful  romance  out  of  every  subject  it  touches. 
The  theme  may  be  religion  or  love  or  chivalry  or  history,  the  deeds 
of  Alexander  or  the  misdeeds  of  a  monk ;  but  the  author's  purpose 
never  varies.  He  must  tell  a  romantic  story  and  amuse  his  audience ; 
and  the  more  wonders  and  impossibilities  he  relates,  the  more  surely 
is  he  believed.  We  are  reminded,  in  reading,  of  the  native  Gauls, 
who  would  stop  every  traveler  and  compel  him  to  tell  a  story  ere  he 
passed  on.  There  was  more  of  the  Gaul  than  of  the  Norseman  in 
the  conquerors,  and  far  more  of  fancy  than  of  thought  or  feeling  in 
their  literature.  If  you  would  see  this  in  concrete  form,  read  the 
Chanson  de  Roland,  the  French  national  epic  (which  the  Normans 

1  See  p.  51. 

2  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  all  the  chroniclers  of  the  period,  whether  of  English  or 
Norman  birth,  unite  in  admiration  of  the  great  figures  of  English  history,  as  it  was  then 
understood.    Brutus,  Arthur,  Hengist,  Horsa,  Edward  the  Confessor,  and  William  of 
Normandy  are  all  alike  set  down  as  English  heroes.   In  a  French  poem  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  for  instance,  we  read  that  "there  is  no  land  in  the  world  where  so  many  good 
kings  and  saints  have  lived  as  in  the  isle  of  the  English  .  .  .  such  as  the  strong  and 
brave  Arthur,  Edmund,  and   Cnut."    This   national   poem,   celebrating  the   English 
Edward,  was  written  in  French  by  a  Norman  monk  of  Westminster  Abbey,  and  its  first 
heroes  are  a  Celt,  a  Saxon,  and  a  Dane.    (See  Jusserand,  Literary  History  of  the  Eng- 
lish People,  I,  II2ff.) 


THE  ANGLO-NORMAN  PERIOD  49 

first  put  into  literary  form),  in  contrast  with  Beowulf,  which  voices 
the  Saxon's  thought  and  feeling  before  the  profound  mystery  of 
human  life.  It  is  not  our  purpose  to  discuss  the  evident  merits  or 
the  serious  defects  of  Norman-French  literature,  but  only  to  point 
out  two  facts  which  impress  the  student,  namely,  that  Anglo-Saxon 
literature  was  at  one  time  enormously  superior  to  the  French,  and 
that  the  latter,  with  its  evident  inferiority,  absolutely  replaced  the 
former.  "The  fact  is  too  often  ignored,"  says  Professor  Schofield,1 
"that  before  1066  the  Anglo-Saxons  had  a  body  of  native  literature 
distinctly  superior  to  any  which  the  Normans  or  French  could  boast 
at  that  time ;  their  prose  especially  was  unparalleled  for  extent  and 
power  in  any  European  vernacular."  Why,  then,  does  this  superior 
literature  disappear  and  for  nearly  three  centuries  French  remain 
supreme,  so  much  so  that  writers  on  English  soil,  even  when  they  do 
not  use  the  French  language,  still  slavishly  copy  the  French  models? 
To  understand  this  curious  phenomenon  it  is  necessary  only  to 
remember  the  relative  conditions  of  the  two  races  who  lived  side  by 
side  in  England.  On  the  one  hand  the  Anglo-Saxons  were  a  con- 
quered people,  and  without  liberty  a  great  literature  is  impossible. 
The  inroads  of  the  Danes  and  their  own  tribal  wars  had  already 
destroyed  much  of  their  writings,  and  in  their  new  condition  of 
servitude  they  could  hardly  preserve  what  remained.  The  conquer- 
ing Normans,  on  the  other  hand,  represented  the  civilization  of 
France,  which  country,  during  the  early  Middle  Ages,  was  the  literary 
and  educational  center  of  all  Europe.  They  came  to  England  at  a 
time  when  the  idea  of  nationality  was  dead,  when  culture  had  almost 
vanished,  when  Englishmen  lived  apart  in  narrow  isolation  ;  and  they 
brought  with  them  law,  culture,  the  prestige  of  success,  and  above 
all  the  strong  impulse  to  share  in  the  great  world's  work  and  to  join 
in  the  moving  currents  of  the  world's  history.  Small  wonder,  then, 
that  the  young  Anglo-Saxons  felt  the  quickening  of  this  new  life 
and  turned  naturally  to  the  cultured  and  progressive  Normans  as 
their  literary  models. 

II.  LITERATURE  OF  THE  NORMAN  PERIOD 


In  the  Advocates'  Library  at  Edinburgh  there  is  a  beauti- 
fully illuminated  manuscript,  written  about  1330,  which  gives 
us  an  excellent  picture  of  the  literature  of  the  Norman  period. 

1  English  Literature  from  the  Norman  Conquest  to  Chaucer. 


50  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

In  examining  it  we  are  to  remember  that  literature  was  in 
the  hands  of  the  clergy  and  nobles ;  that  the  common  people 
could  not  read,  and  had  only  a  few  songs  and  ballads  for  their 
literary  portion.  We  are  to  remember  also  that  parchments 
were  scarce  and  very  expensive,  and  that  a  single  manuscript 
often  contained  all  the  reading  matter  of  a  castle  or  a  village. 
Hence  this  old  manuscript  is  as  suggestive  as  a  modern  library. 
It  contains  over  forty  distinct  works,  the  great  bulk  of  them 
being  romances.  There  are  metrical  or  verse  romances  of 


CANTERBURY  CATHEDRAL  AS  IT  WAS  COMPLETED  LONG 
AFTER  THE  CONQUEST 

French  and  Celtic  and  English  heroes,  like  Roland,  Arthur 
and  Tristram,  and  Bevis  of  Hampton.  There  are  stories  of 
Alexander,  the  Greek  romance  of  "Flores  and  Blanchefleur," 
and  a  collection  of  Oriental  tales  called  "The  Seven  Wise 
Masters."  There  are  legends  of  the  Virgin  and  the  saints,  a 
paraphrase  of  Scripture,  a  treatise  on  the  seven  deadly  sins, 
some  Bible  history,  a  dispute  among  birds  concerning  women, 
a  love  song  or  two,  a  vision  of  Purgatory,  a  vulgar  story 
with  a  Gallic  flavor,  a  chronicle  of  English  kings  and  Norman 
barons,  and  a  political  satire.  There  are  a  few  other  works, 


THE  ANGLO-NORMAN  PERIOD  51 

similarly  incongruous,  crowded  together  in  this  typical  manu- 
script, which  now  gives  mute  testimony  to  the  literary  taste  of 
the  times. 

Obviously  it  is  impossible  to  classify  such  a  variety.  We 
note  simply  that  it  is  mediaeval  in  spirit,  and  French  in  style 
and  expression  ;  and  that  sums  up  the  age.  All  the  scholarly 
works  of  the  period,  like  William  of  Malmesbury's  History, 
and  Anselm's 1  Cur  Deus  Homo,  and  Roger  Bacon's  Opus 
Majus,  the  beginning  of  modern  experimental  science,  were 
written  in  Latin ;  while  nearly  all  other  works  were  written 
in  French,  or  else  were  English  copies  or  translations  of  French. 
originals.  Except  for  the  advanced  student,  therefore,  they 
hardly  belong  to  the  story  of  English  literature.  We  shall 
note  here  only  one  or  two  marked  literary  types,  like  the  Rim- 
ing Chronicle  (or  verse  history)  and  the  Metrical  Romancey 
and  a  few  writers  whose  work  has  especial  significance. 

Geoffrey  of  Monmouth  (d.  1 1 54).  Geoffrey's  Historia  Regum 
Britannia  is  noteworthy,  not  as  literature,  but  rather  as  a  source 
book  from  which  many  later  writers  drew  their  literary  mate- 
rials. Among  the  native  Celtic  tribes  an  immense  number  of 
legends,  many  of  them  of  exquisite  beauty,  had  been  pre- 
served through  four  successive  conquests  of  Britain.  Geoffrey, 
a  Welsh  monk,  collected  some  of  these  legends  and,  aided 
chiefly  by  his  imagination,  wrote  a  complete  history  of  the 
Britons.  His  alleged  authority  was  an  ancient  manuscript  in 
the  native  Welsh  tongue  containing  the  lives  and  deeds  of  all 
their  kings,  from  Brutus,  the  alleged  founder  of  Britain,  down 
to  the  coming  of  Julius  Caesar.2  From  this  Geoffrey  wrote  his 
history,  down  to  the  death  of  Cadwalader  in  689. 

The  "  History  "  is  a  curious  medley  of  pagan  and  Christian 
legends,  of  chronicle,  comment,  and  pure  invention,  —  all 

1  Anselm  was  an  Italian  by  birth,  but  wrote  his  famous  work  while  holding  the  see 
of  Canterbury. 

2  During  the  Roman  occupancy  of  Britain  occurred  a  curious  mingling  of  Celtic 
and  Roman  traditions.    The  Welsh  began  to  associate  their  national  hero  Arthur  with 
Roman  ancestors ;  hence  the  story  of  Brutus,  great-grandson  of  ^neas,  the  first  king 
of  Britain,  as  related  by  Geoffrey  and  Layamon. 


52  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

recorded  in  minute  detail  and  with  a  gravity  which  makes  it 
clear  that  Geoffrey  had  no  conscience,  or  else  was  a  great 
joker.  As  history  the  whole  thing  is  rubbish  ;  but  it  was  ex- 
traordinarily successful  at  the  time  and  made  all  who  heard  it, 
whether  Normans  or  Saxons,  proud  of  their  own  country.  It 
is  interesting  to  us  because  it  gave  a  new  direction  to  the 
literature  of  England  by  showing  the  wealth  of  poetry  and 
'•romance  that  lay  in  its  cAvn  traditions  of  Arthur  and  his 
knights.  Shakespeare's  King  Lear,  Malory's  Morte  d*  Arthur, 
and  Tennyson's  Idylls  of  the  King  were  founded  on  the  work 
of  this  monk,  who  had  the  genius  to  put  unwritten  Celtic  tra- 
dition in  the  enduring  form  of  Latin  prose. 

Work  of  the  French  Writers.  The  French  literature  of  the 
Norman  period  is  interesting  chiefly  because  of  the  avidity 
with  which  foreign  writers  seized  upon  the  native  legends  and 
made  them  popular  in  England.  Until  Geoffrey's  preposter- 
ous chronicle  appeared,  these  legends  had  not  been  used  to 
any  extent  as  literary  material.  Indeed,  they  were  scarcely 
known  in  England,  though  familiar  to  French  and  Italian 
minstrels.  Legends  of  Arthur  and  his  court  were  probably 
first  taken  to  Brittany  by  Welsh  emigrants  in  the  fifth  and 
sixth  centuries.  They  became  immensely  popular  wherever 
they  were  told,  and  they  were  slowly  carried  by  minstrels  and 
story-tellers  all  over  Europe.  That  they  had  never  received 
literary  form  or  recognition  was  due  to  a  peculiarity  of  medi- 
aeval literature,  which  required  that  every  tale  should  have 
some  ancient  authority  behind  it.  Geoffrey  met  this  demand 
by  creating  an  historical  manuscript  of  Welsh  history.  That 
was  enough  for  the  age.  With  Geoffrey  and  his  alleged  manu- 
script to  rest  upon,  the  Norman-French  writers  were  free  to 
use  the  fascinating  stories  which  had  been  for  centuries  in  the 
possession  of  their  wandering  minstrels.  Geoffrey's  Latin 
history  was  put  into  French  verse  by  Gaimar  (c.  1150)  and 
by  Wace  (c.  1155),  and  from  these  French  versions  the  work 
was  first  translated  into  English.  From  about  1200  onward 


THE  ANGLO-NORMAN  PERIOD  53 

Arthur  and  Guinevere  and  the  matchless  band  of  Celtic  heroes 
that  we  meet  later  (1470)  in  Malory's  Morte  d'A rthur  became 
the  permanent  possession  of  our  literature. 

Layamon's  Brut  (c.  1200).  This  is  the  most  important  of 
the  English  riming  chronicles,  that  is,  history  related  in  the 
form  of  doggerel  verse,  probably  because  poetry  is  more 
easily  memorized  than  prose.  We  give  here  a  free  rendering 
of  selected  lines  at  the  beginning  of  the  poem,  which  tell  us 
all  we  know  of  Layamon,  the  first  who  ever  wrote  as  an 
Englishman  for  Englishmen,  including  in  the  term  all  who 
loved  England  and  called  it  home,  no  matter  where  their 
ancestors  were  born. 

Now  there  was  a  priest  in  the  land  named  Layamon.  He  was  son  of 
Leovenath  —  may  God  be  gracious  unto  him.  He  dwelt  at  Ernley,  at  a 
noble  church  on  Severn's  bank.  He  read  many  books,  and  it  came  to 
his  mind  to  tell  the  noble  deeds  of  the  English.  Then  he  began  to 
journey  far  and  wide  over  the  land  to  procure  noble  books  for  authority. 
He  took  the  English  book  that  Saint  Bede  made,  another  in  Latin  that 
Saint  Albin  made,1  and  a  third  book  that  a  French  clerk  made,  named 
Wace.2  Layamon  laid  these  works  before  him  and  turned  the  leaves  ; 
lovingly  he  beheld  them.  Pen  he  took,  and  wrote  on  book-skin,  and 
made  the  three  books  into  one. 

The  poem  begins  with  the  destruction  of  Troy  and  the 
flight  of  "^Eneas  the  duke"  into  Italy.  Brutus,  a  great- 
grandson  of  ^Eneas,  gathers  his  people  and  sets  out  to  find 
a  new  land  in  the  West.  Then  follows  the  founding  of  the 
Briton  kingdom,  and  the  last  third  of  the  poem,  which  is  over 
thirty  thousand  lines  in  length,  is  taken  up  with  the  history 
of  Arthur  and  his  knights.  If  the  Brut  had  no  merits  of  its 
own,  it  would  still  interest  us,  for  it  marks  the  first  appear- 
ance of  the  Arthurian  legends  in  our  own  tongue.  A  single 
selection  is  given  here  from  Arthur's  dying  speech,  familiar 
to  us  in  Tennyson's  Morte  d'  Arthur.  The  reader  will  notice 
here  two  things  :  first,  that  though  the  poem  is  almost  pure 

1  Probably  a  Latin  copy  of  Bede. 

2  Wace's  translation  of  Geoffrey. 


54 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


-Anglo-Saxon,1  our  first  speech  has  already  dropped  many  in- 
flections and  is  more  easily  read  than  Beoivulf ;  second,  that 
-French  influence  is  already  at  work  in  Layamon's  rimes  and 
assonances,  that  is,  the  harmony  resulting  from  using  the 
same  vowel  sound  in  several  successive  lines  : 


And  ich  wulle  varen  to  Avalun  : 

To  vairest  alre  maidene, 

To  Argante  there  quene, 

Alven  swithe  sceone. 

And  heo  seal  mine  wunden 

Makien  alle  isunde, 

Al  hal  me  makien 

Mid  haleweiye  drenchen. 

And  seothe  ich  cumen  wulle 

To  mine  kineriche 

And  wunien  mid  Brutten 

Mid  muchelere  wunne. 

>Efne  than  worden 

Ther  com  of  se  wenden 

That  wes  an  sceort  bat  lithen, 

Sceoven  mid  uthen, 

And  twa  wimmen  ther  inne, 

Wunderliche  idihte. 

And  heo  nomen  Arthur  anan 

And  an  eovste  hine  vereden 

And  softe  hine  adun  leiden, 

And  forth  gunnen  lithen. 


And  I  will  fare  to  Avalun, 
To  fairest  of  all  maidens, 
To  Argante  the  queen, 
An  elf  very  beautiful. 
And  she  shall  my  wounds 
Make  all  sound ; 
All  whole  me  make 
With  healing  drinks. 
And  again  will  I  come 
To  my  kingdom 
And  dwell  with  Britons 
With  mickle  joy. 
Even  (with)  these  words 
There  came  from  the  sea 
A  short  little  boat  gliding, 
Shoved  by  the  waves  ; 
And  two  women  therein, 
Wondrously  attired. 
And  they  took  Arthur  anon 
And  bore  him  hurriedly, 
And  softly  laid  him  down, 
And  forth  gan  glide. 


Metrical  Romances.  Love,  chivalry,  and  religion,  all  per- 
vaded by  the  spirit  of  romance,  —  these  are  the  three  great 
literary  ideals  which  find  expression  in  the  metrical  romances. 
Read  these  romances  now,  with  their  knights  and  fair  ladies, 
their  perilous  adventures  and  tender  love-making,  their  min- 
strelsy and  tournaments  and  gorgeous  cavalcades,  —  as  if 
humanity  were  on  parade,  and  life  itself  were  one  tumultuous 
holiday  in  the  open  air,  —  and  you  have  an  epitome  of  the 
whole  childish,  credulous  soul  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The 

1  Only  one  word  in  about  three  hundred  and  fifty  is  of  French  origin.  A  century  later 
Robert  Mannyng  uses  one  French  word  in  eighty,  while  Chaucer  has  one  in  six  or  seven. 
This  includes  repetitions,  and  is  a  fair  estimate  rather  than  an  exact  computation. 


THE  ANGLO-NORMAN  PERIOD  55 

Normans  first  brought  this  type  of  romance  into  England,  and 
so  popular  did  it  become,  so  thoroughly  did  it  express  the 
romantic  spirit  of  the  time,  that  it  speedily  overshadowed  all 
other  forms  of  literary  expression. 

Though  the  metrical  romances  varied  much  in  form  and 
subject-matter,  the  general  type  remains  the  same,  —  a  long 
rambling  poem  or  series  of  poems  treating  of  love 
or  knightly  adventure  or  both.  Its  hero  is  a  knight ; 
its  characters  are  fair  ladies  in  distress,  warriors  in  armor, 
giants,  dragons,  enchanters,  and  various  enemies  of  Church 
and  State ;  and  its  emphasis  is  almost  invariably  on  love, 
religion,  and  duty  as  defined  by  chivalry.  In  the  French 
originals  of  these  romances  the  lines  were  a  definite  length, 
the  meter  exact,  and  rimes  and  assonances  were  both  used  to 
give  melody.  In  England  this  metrical  system  came  in  con- 
tact with  the  uneven  lines,  the  strong  accent  and  alliteration 
of  the  native  songs  ;  and  it  is  due  to  the  gradual  union  of  the 
two  systems,  French  and  Saxon,  that  our  English  became 
capable  of  the  melody  and  amazing  variety  of  verse  forms 
which  first  find  expression  in  Chaucer's  poetry. 

In  the  enormous  number  of  these  verse  romances  we  note 
three  main  divisions,  according  to  subject,  into  the  romances 
Cycles  of  (or  the  so-called  matter)  of  France,  Rome,  and 
Romances  Britain.1  The  matter  of  France  deals  largely  with 
the  exploits  of  Charlemagne  and  his  peers,  and  the  chief  of 
these  Carlovingian  cycles  is  the  Chanson  de  Roland,  the 
national  epic,  which  celebrates  the  heroism  of  Roland  in  his 
last  fight  against  the  Saracens  at  Ronceval.  Originally  these 
romances  were  called  Chansons  de  Geste ;  and  the  name  is 
significant  as  indicating  that  the  poems  were  originally  short 
songs2  celebrating  the  deeds  (gesta)  of  well-known  heroes. 

1  The  matter  of  Britain  refers  strictly  to  the  Arthurian,  i.e.  the  Welsh  romances;  and 
so  another  division,  the  matter  of  England,  may  be  noted.    This  includes  tales  of  popu- 
lar English  heroes,  like  Bevis  of  Hampton,  Guy  of  Warwick,  Horn  Child,  etc. 

2  According  to  mediaeval  literary  custom  these  songs  were  rarely  signed.    Later,  when 
many  songs  were  made  over  into  a  long  poem,  the  author  signed  his  name  to  the  entire 
work,  without  indicating  what  he  had  borrowed. 


56  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Later  the  various  songs  concerning  one  hero  were  gathered 
together  and  the  Geste  became  an  epic,  like  the  Chanson  de 
Roland,  or  a  kind  of  continued  ballad  story,  hardly  deserving 
the  name  of  epic,  like  the  Geste  of  Robin  Hood}- 

The  matter  of  Rome  consisted  largely  of  tales  from  Greek 
and  Roman  sources ;  and  the  two  great  cycles  of  these 
romances  deal  with  the  deeds  of  Alexander,  a  favorite  hero, 
and  the  siege  of  Troy,  with  which  the  Britons  thought  they 
had  some  historic  connection.  To  these  were  added  a  large 
number  of  tales  from  Oriental  sources ;  and  in  the  exuberant 
imagination  of  the  latter  we  see  the  influence  which  the 
Saracens  —  those  nimble  wits  who  gave  us  our  first  modern 
sciences  and  who  still  reveled  in  the  Arabian  Nights  —  had 
begun  to  exercise  on  the  literature  of  Europe. 

To  the  English  reader,  at  least,  the  most  interesting  of  the 
romances  are  those  which  deal  with  the  exploits  of  Arthur 
The  Matter  and  his  Knights  of  the  Round  Table,  —  the  rich- 
of  Britain  est  storehouse  of  romance  which  our  literature  has 
ever  found.  There  were  many  cycles  of  Arthurian  romances, 
chief  of  which  are  those  of  Gawain,  Launcelot,  Merlin,  the 
Quest  of  the  Holy  Grail,  and  the  Death  of  Arthur.  In  pre- 
ceding sections  we  have  seen  how  these  fascinating  romances 
were  used  by  Geoffrey  and  the  French  writers,  and  how, 
through  the  French,  they  found  their  way  into  English,  ap- 
pearing first  in  our  speech  in  Layamon's  Brut.  The  point  to 
remember  is  that,  while  the  legends  are  Celtic  in  origin,  their 
literary  form  is  due  to  French  poets,  who  originated  the  met- 
rical romance.  All  our  early  English  romances  are  either  copies 
or  translations  of  the  French  ;  and  this  is  true  not  only  of  the 
matter  of  France  and  Rome,  but  of  Celtic  heroes  like  Arthur, 
and  English  heroes  like  Guy  of  Warwick  and  Robin  Hood. 

1  An  English  book  in  which  such  romances  were  written  was  called  a  Gest  or  Jest 
Book.  So  also  at  the  beginning  of  Cursor  Mundi  (c.  1320)  we  read : 

Men  yernen  jestis  for  to  here 

And  romaunce  rede  in  diverse  manere, 

and  then  follows  a  summary  of  the  great  cycles  of  romance,  which  we  are  considering. 


THE  ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD  57 

The  most  interesting  of  all  Arthurian  romances  are  those 
of  the  Gawain  cycle,1  and  of  these  the  story  of  Sir  Gawain 
and  the  Green  Knight  is  best  worth  reading,  for 
and  the  Green  many  reasons.  First,  though  the  material  is  taken 
from  French  sources,2  the  English  workmanship  is 
the  finest  of  our  early  romances.  Second,  the  unknown  author 
of  this  romance  probably  wrote  also  "The  Pearl,"  and  is  the 
greatest  English  poet  of  the  Norman  period.  Third,  the  poem 
itself  with  its  dramatic  interest,  its  vivid  descriptions,  and  its 
moral  purity,  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  old  romances  in 
any  language. 

In  form  Sir  Gawain  is  an  interesting  combination  of 
French  and  Saxon  elements.  It  is  written  in  an  elaborate 
stanza  combining  meter  and  alliteration.  At  the  end  of  each 
stanza  is  a  rimed  refrain,  called  by  the  French  a  "tail  rime." 
We  give  here  a  brief  outline  of  the  story ;  but  if  the  reader 
desires  the  poem  itself,  he  is  advised  to  begin  with  a  modern 
version,  as  the  original  is  in  the  West  Midland  dialect  and  is 
exceedingly  difficult  to  follow. 

On  New  Year's  day,  while  Arthur  and  his  knights  are  keeping  the 
Yuletide  feast  at  Camelot,  a  gigantic  knight  in  green  enters  the  banquet 
hall  on  horseback  and  challenges  the  bravest  knight  present  to  an 
exchange  of  blows ;  that  is,  he  will  expose  his  neck  to  a  blow  of  his 
own  big  battle-ax,  if  any  knight  will  agree  to  abide  a  blow  in  return. 
After  some  natural  consternation  and  a  fine  speech  by  Arthur,  Gawain 
accepts  the  challenge,  takes  the  battle-ax,  and  with  one  blow  sends  the 
giant's  head  rolling  through  the  hall.  The  Green  Knight,  who  is  evi- 
dently a  terrible  magician,  picks  up  his  head  and  mounts  his  horse. 
He  holds  out  his  head  and  the  ghastly  lips  speak,  warning  Gawain  to 
be  faithful  to  his  promise  and  to  seek  through  the  world  till  he  finds  the 
Green  Chapel.  There,  on  next  New  Year's  day,  the  Green  Knight  will 
meet  him  and  return  the  blow. 

The  second  canto  of  the  poem  describes  Gawain's  long  journey 
through  the  wilderness  on  his  steed  Gringolet,  and  his  adventures  with 

1  Tennyson  goes  farther  than  Malory  in  making  Gawain  false  and  irreverent.    That 
seems  to  be  a  mistake ;  for  in  all  the  earliest  romances  Gawain  is,  next  to  Arthur,  the 
noblest  of  knights,  the  most  loved  and  honored  of  all  the  heroes  of  the  Round  Table. 

2  There  were  various  French  versions  of  the  story ;  but  it  came  originally  from  the 
Irish,  where  the  hero  was  called  Cuchulinn. 


58      •  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

storm  and  cold,  with  wild  beasts  and  monsters,  as  he  seeks  in  vain  for 
the  Green  Chapel.  On  Christmas  eve,  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  forest,  he 
offers  a  prayer  to  "  Mary,  mildest  mother  so  dear,"  and  is  rewarded 
by  sight  of  a  great  castle.  He  enters  and  is  royally  entertained  by 
the  host,  an  aged  hero,  and  by  his  wife,  who  is  the  most  beautiful 
woman  the  knight  ever  beheld.  Gawain  learns  that  he  is  at  last  near 
the  Green  Chapel,  and  settles  down  for  a  little  comfort  after  his 
long  quest. 

The  next  canto  shows  the  life  in  the  castle,  and  describes  a  curious 
compact  between  the  host,  who  goes  hunting  daily,  and  the  knight,  who- 
remains  in  the  castle  to  entertain  the  young  wife.  The  compact  is  that 
at  night  each  man  shall  give  the  other  whatever  good  thing  he  obtains 
during  the  day.  While  the  host  is  hunting,  the  young  woman  tries  in 
vain  to  induce  Gawain  to  make  love  to  her,  and  ends  by  giving  him  a. 
kiss.  When  the  host  returns  and  gives  his  guest  the  game  he  has  killed 
Gawain  returns  the  kiss.  On  the  third  day,  her  temptations  having 
twice  failed,  the  lady  offers  Gawain  a  ring,  which  he  refuses  ;  but  when 
she  offers  a  magic  green  girdle  that  will  preserve  the  wearer  from 
death,  Gawain,  who  remembers  the  giant's  ax  so  soon  to  fall  on  his- 
neck,  accepts  the  girdle  as  a  "jewel  for  the  jeopardy"  and  promises 
the  lady  to  keep  the  gift  secret.  Here,  then,  are  two  conflicting  com- 
pacts. When  the  host  returns  and  offers  his  game,  Gawain  returns  the 
kiss  but  says  nothing  of  the  green  girdle. 

The  last  canto  brings  our  knight  to  the  Green  Chapel,  after  he  is 
repeatedly  warned  to  turn  back  in  the  face  of  certain  death.  The 
Chapel  is  a  terrible  place  in  the  midst  of  desolation  ;  and  as  Gawain 
approaches  he  hears  a  terrifying  sound,  the  grating  of  steel  on  stone, 
where  the  giant  is  sharpening  a  new  battle-ax.  The  Green  Knight 
appears,  and  Gawain,  true  to  his  compact,  offers  his  neck  for  the  blow. 
Twice  the  ax  swings  harmlessly ;  the  third  time  it  falls  on  his  shoulder 
and  wounds  him.  Whereupon  Gawain  jumps  for  his  armor,  draws  his 
sword,  and  warns  the  giant  that  the  compact  calls  for  only  one  blow, 
and  that,  if  another  is  offered,  he  will  defend  himself. 

Then  the  Green  Knight  explains  things.  He  is  lord  of  the  castle 
where  Gawain  has  been  entertained  for  days  past.  The  first  two  swings 
of  the  ax  were  harmless  because  Gawain  had  been  true  to  his  compact 
and  twice  returned  the  kiss.  The  last  blow  had  wounded  him  because 
he  concealed  the  gift  of  the  green  girdle,  which  belongs  to  the  Green 
Knight  and  was  woven  by  his  wife.  Moreover,  the  whole  thing  has  been, 
arranged  by  Morgain  the  fay-woman  (an  enemy  of  Queen  Guinevere,, 
who  appears  often  in  the  Arthurian  romances).  Full  of  shame,  Gawain. 
throws  back  the  gift  and  is  ready  to  atone  for  his  deception ;  but  the 
Green  Knight  thinks  he  has  already  atoned,  and  presents  the  green 
girdle  as  a  free  gifto  Gawain  returns  to  Arthur's  court,  tells  the  whole 


THE  ANGLO-NORMAN  PERIOD  59 

story  frankly,  and  ever  after  that  the  knights  of  the  Round  Table  wear 
a  green  girdle  in  his  honor.1 

The  Pearl.  In  the  same  manuscript  with  "  Sir  Gawain  " 
are  found  three  other  remarkable  poems,  written  about  1350, 
and  known  to  us,  in  order,  as  "The  Pearl,"  "Cleanness," 
and  "  Patience."  The  first  is  the  most  beautiful,  and  received 
its  name  from  the  translator  and  editor,  Richard  Morris,  in 
1864.  "Patience"  is  a  paraphrase  of  the  book  of  Jonah; 
<r  Cleanness "  moralizes  on  the  basis  of  Bible  stories ;  but 
"The  Pearl"  is  an  intensely  human  and  realistic  picture 
of  a  father's  grief  for  his  little  daughter  Margaret,  "My 
precious  perle  wythouten  spot."  It  is  the  saddest  of  all 
our  early  poems. 

On  the  grave  of  his  little  one,  covered  over  with  flowers,  the  father 
pours  out  his  love  and  grief  till,  in  the  summer  stillness,  he  falls  asleep, 
while  we  hear  in  the  sunshine  the  drowsy  hum  of  insects  and  the  far- 
away sound  of  the  reapers'  sickles.  He  dreams  there,  and  the  dream 
grows  into  a  vision  beautiful.  His  body  lies  still  upon  the  grave  while 
his  spirit  goes  to  a  land,  exquisite  beyond  all  words,  where  he  comes 
suddenly  upon  a  stream  that  he  cannot  cross.  As  he  wanders  along  the 
bank,  seeking  in  vain  for  a  ford,  a  marvel  rises  before  his  eyes,  a  crystal 
cliff,  and  seated  beneath  it  a  little  maiden  who  raises  a  happy,  shining 
face,  —  the  face  of  his  little  Margaret. 

More  then  me  lyste  my  drede  aros, 
I  stod  full  stylle  and  dorste  not  calle  ; 
Wyth  yghen  open  and  mouth  ful  clos, 
I  stod  as  hende  as  hawk  in  halle. 

He  dares  not  speak  for  fear  of  breaking  the  spell ;  but  sweet  as  a  lily 
she  comes  down  the  crystal  stream's  bank  to  meet  and  speak  with  him, 
and  tell  him  of  the  happy  life  of  heaven  and  how  to  live  to  be  worthy 
of  it.  In  his  joy  he  listens,  forgetting  all  his  grief;  then  the  heart  of 
the  man  cries  out  for  its  own,  and  he  struggles  to  cross  the  stream  to 
join  her.  In  the  struggle  the  dream  vanishes;  he  wakens  to  find  his 
eyes  wet  and  his  head  on  the  little  mound  that  marks  the  spot  where 
his  heart  is  buried. 

1  It  is  often  alleged  that  in  this  romance  we  have  a  very  poetical  foundation  for  the 
Order  of  the  Garter,  which  was  instituted  by  Edward  III,  in  1349;  but  the  history  of 
the  order  makes  this  extremely  doubtful.  The  reader  will  be  chiefly  interested  in  com- 
paring this  romance  with  Beowulf,  for  instance,  to  see  what  new  ideals  have  taken  root 
in  England. 


60  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

From  the  ideals  of  these  three  poems,  and  from  peculiari- 
ties of  style  and  meter,  it  is  probable  that  their  author  wrote 
also  Sir  Gawain  and  the  Green  Knight.  If  so,  the  unknown 
author  is  the  one  genius  of  the  age  whose  poetry  of  itself 
has  power  to  interest  us,  and  who  stands  between  Cynewulf 
and  Chaucer  as  a  worthy  follower  of  the  one  and  forerunner 
of  the  other. 

Miscellaneous  Literature  of  the  Norman  Period.  It  is  well- 
nigh  impossible  to  classify  the  remaining  literature  of  this 
period,  and  very  little  of  it  is  now  read,  except  by  advanced 
students.  Those  interested  in  the  development  of  "transi- 
tion "  English  will  find  in  the  Ancren  Riwle,  i.e.  "  Rule  of  the 
Anchoresses"  (c.  1225),  the  most  beautiful  bit  of  old  English 
prose  ever  written.  It  is  a  book  of  excellent  religious  advice 
and  comfort,  written  for  three  ladies  who  wished  to  live  a 
religious  life,  without,  however,  becoming  nuns  or  entering 
any  religious  orders.  The  author  was  Bishop  Poore  of  Salis- 
bury, according  to  Morton,  who  first  edited  this  old  classic 
in  1853.  Orm's  Ormulum,  written  soon  after  the  Brut,  is  a 
paraphrase  of  the  gospel  lessons  for  the  year,  somewhat  after 
the  manner  of  Caedmon's  Paraphrase,  but  without  any  of 
Caedmon's  poetic  fire  and  originality.  Cursor  Mundi  (c.  1320) 
is  a  very  long  poem  which  makes  a  kind  of  metrical  romance 
out  of  Bible  history  and  shows  the  whole  dealing  of  God  with 
man  from  Creation  to  Domesday.  It  is  interesting  as  show- 
ing a  parallel  to  the  cycles  of  miracle  plays,  which  attempt 
to  cover  the  same  vast  ground.  They  were  forming  in  this 
age  ;  but  we  will  study  them  later,  when  we  try  to  understand 
the  rise  of  the  drama  in  England. 

Besides  these  greater  works,  an  enormous  number  of  fables 
and  satires  appeared  in  this  age,  copied  or  translated  from 
the  French,  like  the  metrical  romances.  The  most  famous  of 
these  are  "The  Owl  and  the  Nightingale," -— a  long  debate 
between  the  two  birds,  one  representing  the  gay  side  of  life, 
the  other  the  sterner  side  of  law  and  morals,  —  and  "  Land 


THE  ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD  6 1 

of  Cockaygne,"  i.e.  "Luxury  Land,"  a  keen  satire  on  monks 
and  monastic  religion.1 

While  most  of  the  literature  of  the  time  was  a  copy  of  the 

French  and  was  intended  only  for  the  upper  classes,  here 

and  there  were  singers  who  made  ballads  for  the 

Ballads 

common  people ;  and  these,  next  to  the  metrical 
romances,  are  the  most  interesting  and  significant  of  all  the 
works  of  the  Norman  period.  On  account  of  its  obscure  ori- 
gin and  its  oral  transmission,  the  ballad  is  always  the  most 
difficult  of  literary  subjects.2  We  make  here  only  three  sug- 
gestions, which  may  well  be  borne  in  mind  :  that  ballads  were 
produced  continually  in  England  from  Anglo-Saxon  times 
until  the  seventeenth  century  ;  that  for  centuries  they  were 
the  only  really  popular  literature ;  and  that  in  the  ballads 
alone  one  is  able  to  understand  the  common  people.  Read, 
for  instance,  the  ballads  of  the  "merrie  greenwood  men," 
which  gradually  collected  into  the  Geste  of  Robin  Hood,  and 
you  will  understand  better,  perhaps,  than  from  reading  many 
histories  what  the  common  people  of  England  felt  and  thought 
while  their  lords  and  masters  were  busy  with  impossible  met- 
rical romances. 

In  these  songs  speaks  the  heart  of  the  English  folk.  There 
is  lawlessness  indeed;  but  this  seems  justified  by  the  oppres- 
sion of  the  times  and  by  the  barbarous  severity  of  the  game 
laws.  An  intense  hatred  of  shams  and  injustice  lurks  in  every 
song ;  but  the  hatred  is  saved  from  bitterness  by  the  humor 
with  which  captives,  especially  rich  churchmen,  are  solemnly 
lectured  by  the  bandits,  while  they  squirm  at  sight  of  devilish 

1  Originally  Cockaygne   (variously  spelled)  was  intended  to  ridicule  the  mythical 
country  of  Avalon,  somewhat  as  Cervantes'  Don  Quixote  later  ridicules  the  romances  of 
chivalry.   In  Luxury  Land  everything  was  good  to  eat ;  houses  were  built  of  dainties 
and  shingled  with  cakes  ;  buttered  larks  fell  instead  of  rain ;  the  streams  ran  with  good 
wine ;  and  roast  geese  passed  slowly  down  the  streets,  turning  themselves  as  they  went. 

2  Child's  English  and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads  is  the  most  scholarly  and  complete 
collection  in  our  language.    Gummere's  Old  English  Ballads  is  a  good  short  work. 
Professor  Kittredge's  Introduction  to  the  Cambridge  edition  of  Child's  Ballads  is  the 
best  summary  of  a  very  difficult  subject.    For  an  extended  discussion  of  the  literary 
character  of  the  ballad,  see  Gummere's  The  Popular  Ballad. 


62 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


tortures  prepared  before  their  eyes  in  order  to  make  them 
give  up  their  golden  purses  ;  and  the  scene  generally  ends  in 
a  bit  of  wild  horse-play.  There  is  fighting  enough,  and  ambush 
and  sudden  death  lurk  at  every  turn  of  the  lonely  roads  ;  but 
there  is  also  a  rough,  honest  chivalry  for  women,  and  a  gener- 
ous sharing  of  plunder  with  the  poor  and  needy.  All  literature 


REMAINS  OF  THE  SCRIPTORIUM  OF  FOUNTAINS  ABBEY 
(Fourteenth  century) 

is  but  a  dream  expressed,  and  "  Robin  Hood  "  is  the  dream  of 
an  ignorant  and  oppressed  but  essentially  noble  people,  strug- 
gling and  determined  to  be  free. 

Far  more  poetical  than  the  ballads,  and  more  interesting: 
even  than  the  romances,  are  the  little  lyrics  of  the  period,  — 
those  tears  and  smiles  of  long  ago  that  crystallized 
into  poems,  to  tell  us  that  the  hearts  of  men  are 
alike  in  all  ages.  Of  these,  the  best  known  are  the  "  Luve 
Ron"  (love  rune  or  letter)  of  Thomas  de  Hales  (c.  1250); 


Lyrics 


THE  ANGLO-NORMAN  PERIOD  63 

*  Springtime"  (c.  1300),  beginning  "Lenten  (spring)  ys  come 
with  luve  to  toune  ";  and  the  melodious  love  song  "Alysoun," 
written  at  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century  by  some  unknown 
poet  who  heralds  the  coming  of  Chaucer : 

Bytuene  Mersh  and  Averil, 

When  spray  biginneth  to  springe, 

The  lutel  foul 1  hath  hire  wyl 

On  hyre  lud2  to  synge. 

Ich  libbe3  in  love  longinge 

For  semlokest4  of  all  thinge. 

She  may  me  blisse  bringe  ; 

Icham5  in  hire  baundoun.6 

An  hendy  hap  ichabbe  yhent,' 
Ichot8  from  hevene  it  is  me  sent, 
From  alle  wymmen  mi  love  is  lent9 
And  lyht 10  on  Alysoun. 

Summary  of  the  Norman  Period.  The  Normans  were  originally  a  hardy 
race  of  sea  rovers  inhabiting  Scandinavia.  In  the  tenth  century  they  conquered 
a  part  of  northern  France,  which  is  still  called  Normandy,  and  rapidly  adopted 
French  civilization  and  the  French  language.  Their  conquest  of  Anglo-Saxon 
England  under  William,  Duke  of  Normandy,  began  with  the  battle  of  Hastings 
in  1066.  The  literature  which  they  brought  to  England  is  remarkable  for 
its  bright,  romantic  tales  of  love  and  adventure,  in  marked  contrast  with  the 
strength  and  somberness  of  Anglo-Saxon  poetry.  During  the  three  centuries 
following  Hastings,  Normans  and  Saxons  gradually  united.  The  Anglo-Saxon 
speech  simplified  itself  by  dropping  most  of  its  Teutonic  inflections,  absorbed 
eventually  a  large  part  of  the  French  vocabulary,  and  became  our  English 
language.  English  literature  is  also  a  combination  of  French  and  Saxon 
elements.  The  three  chief  effects  of  the  conquest  were  (i)  the  bringing  of 
Roman  civilization  to  England ;  (2)  the  growth  of  nationality,  i.e.  a  strong 
centralized  government,  instead  of  the  loose  union  of  Saxon  tribes ;  (3)  the 
new  language  and  literature,  which  were  proclaimed  in  Chaucer. 

At  first  the  new  literature  was  remarkably  varied,  but  of  small  intrinsic 
worth ;  and  very  little  of  it  is  now  read.  In  our  study  we  have  noted : 
(i)  Geoffrey's  History,  which  is  valuable  as  a  source  book  of  literature,  since 
it  contains  frhe  native  Celtic  legends  of  Arthur.  (2)  The  work  of  the  French 
writers,  who  made  the  Arthurian  legends  popular.  (3)  Riming  Chronicles,  i.e. 
history  in  doggerel  verse,  like  Layamon's  Brut.  (4)  Metrical  Romances,  or 
tales  in  verse.  These  were  numerous,  and  of  four  classes :  (a)  the  Matter 
of  France,  tales  centering  about  Charlemagne  and  his  peers,  chief  of  which  is 

1  little  bird.       2  in  her  language.       8  I  live.         *  fairest.       5  I  am.      6  power,  bondage. 
7  a  pleasant  fate  I  have  attained.        8  I  know.        9  gone.        10  lit,  alighted. 


64  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  Chanson  de  Roland ;  (b)  Matter  of  Greece  and  Rome,  an  endless  series 
of  fabulous  tales  about  Alexander,  and  about  the  Fall  of  Troy ;  (c)  Matter  of 
England,  stories  of  Bevis  of  Hampton,  Guy  of  Warwick,  Robin  Hood,  etc. ; 
(d)  Matter  of  Britain,  tales  having  for  their  heroes  Arthur  and  his  knights  of 
the  Round  Table.  The  best  of  these  romances  is  Sir  Gawain  and  the  Green 
Knight.  (5)  Miscellaneous  literature,  —  the  Ancren  Riwle,  our  best  piece  of 
early  English  prose;  Orm's  Ormulum;  Cursor  Mundi,  with  its  suggestive 
parallel  to  the  Miracle  plays ;  and  ballads,  like  King  Horn  and  the  Robin 
Hood  songs,  which  were  the  only  poetry  of  the  common  people. 

Selections  for  Reading.  For  advanced  students,  and  as  a  study  of  language, 
a  few  selections  as  given  in  Manly's  English  Poetry  and  in  Manly's  English 
Prose ;  or  selections  from  the  Ormulum,  Brut,  Ancren  Riwle,  and  King  Horn, 
etc.,  in  Morris  and  Skeat's  Specimens  of  Early  English.  The  ordinary  student 
will  get  a  better  idea  of  the  literature  of  the  period  by  using  the  follow- 
ing :  Sir  Gawain,  modernized  by  J.  L.  Weston,  in  Arthurian  Romances  Series 
(Nutt) ;  The  Nun's  Rule  (Ancren  Riwle),  modern  version  by  J.  Morton,  in 
King's  Classics ;  Aucassin  and  Nicolete,  translated  by  A.  Lang  (Crowell  &  Co.) ; 
Tristan  and  Iseult,  in  Arthurian  Romances ;  Evans's  The  High  History  of  the 
Holy  Grail,  in  Temple  Classics ;  The  Pearl,  various  modern  versions  in  prose 
and  verse ;  one  of  the  best  is  Jewett's  metrical  version  (Crowell  &  Co.) ;  The 
Song  of  Roland,  in  King's  Classics,  and  in  Riverside  Literature  Series  ;  Evans's 
translation  of  Geoffrey's  History,  in  Temple  Classics;  Guest's  The  Mabinogion, 
in  Everyman's  Library,  or  S.  Lanier's  Boy's  Mabinogion  (i.e.  Welsh  fairy  tales 
and  romances) ;  Selected  Ballads,  in  Athenseum  Press  Series,  and  in  Pocket 
Classics  ;  Gayley  and  Flaherty's  Poetry  of  the  People  ;  Bates's  A  Ballad  Book. 

Bibliography.1  History.  Text-book,  Montgomery,  pp.  58-86,  or  Cheyney, 
pp.  88-144.  For  fuller  treatment,  Green,  ch.  2  ;  Traill ;  Gardiner,  etc.  Jewett's 
Story  of  the  Normans  (Stories  of  the  Nations  Series) ;  Freeman's  Short 
History  of  the  Norman  Conquest ;  Hutton's  King  and  Baronage  (Oxford 
Manuals  of  English  History). 

Literature.  General  Works.  Jusserand;  Ten  Brink;  Mitchell,  vol.  i,  From 
Celt  to  Tudor ;  The  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature. 

Special  Works.  Schofield's  English  Literature  from  the  Norman  Conquest 
to  Chaucer ;  Lewis's  Beginnings  of  English  Literature ;  Ker's  Epic  and  Ro- 
mance; Saintsbury's  The  Flourishing  of  Romance  and  the  Rise  of  Allegory; 
Newell's  King  Arthur  and  the  Round  Table ;  Maynadier,  The  Arthur  of  the 
English  Poets ;  Rhys's  Studies  in  the  Arthurian  Legends. 

Ballads.  Child's  English  and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads;  Gummere's  Old 
English  Ballads  (one  volume) ;  Hazlitt's  Early  Popular  Poetry  of  England ; 
Gayley  and  Flaherty's  Poetry  of  the  People;  Percy's  Reliques  of  Ancient 
English  Poetry,  in  Everyman's  Library. 

Texts,  Translations,  etc.  Morris  and  Skeat's  Specimens  of  Early  English ; 
Morris's  Sir  Gawain  and  the  Green  Knight,  in  Early  English  Text  Series; 

1  For  titles  and  publishers  of  reference  books  see  General  Bibliography  at  the  end  of 
this  book. 


THE  ANGLO-NORMAN  PERIOD  65 

Madden's  Layamon's  Brut,  text  and  translation  (a  standard  work,  but  rare) ; 
The  Pearl,  text  and  translation,  by  Gollancz ;  the  same  poem,  prose  version, 
by  Osgood,  metrical  versions  by  Jewett,  Weir  Mitchell,  and  Mead ;  Geoffrey's 
History,  translation,  in  Giles's  Six  Old  English  Chronicles  (Bonn's  Antiquarian 
Library) ;  Morley's  Early  English  Prose  Romances  ;  Joyce's  Old  Celtic  Ro- 
mances;  Guest's  The  Mabinogion ;  Lanier's  Boy's  Mabinogion ;  Arthurian 
Romances  Series  (translations).  The  Belles  Lettres  Series,  sec.  2  (announced), 
will  contain  the  texts  of  a  large  number  of  works  of  this  period,  with  notes 
and  introductions. 

Language.  Marsh's  Lectures  on  the  English  Language ;  Bradley's  Making 
of  English ;  Lounsbury's  History  of  the  English  Language ;  Emerson's  Brief 
History  of  the  English  Language ;  Greenough  and  Kittredge's  Words  and 
their  Ways  in  English  Speech ;  Welsh's  Development  of  English  Literature 
and  Language. 

Suggestive  Questions.  I.  What  did  the  Northmen  originally  have  in 
common  with  the  Anglo-Saxons  and  the  Danes  ?  What  brought  about  the 
remarkable  change  from  Northmen  to  Normans  ?  Tell  briefly  the  story  of 
the  Norman  Conquest.  How  did  the  Conquest  affect  the  life  and  literature 
of  England  ? 

2.  What  types  of  literature  were  produced  after  the  Conquest?    How  do 
they  compare  with  Anglo-Saxon  literature  ?    What  works  of  this  period  are 
considered  worthy  of  a  permanent  place  in  our  literature  ? 

3.  What  is  meant  by  the  Riming  Chronicles  ?    What  part  did  they  play  in 
developing  the  idea  of  nationality?    What  led  historians  of  this  period  to 
write  in  verse  ?    Describe  Geoffrey's  History.    What  was  its  most   valuable 
element  from  the  view  point  of  literature  ? 

4.  What  is  Layamon's  Brut  ?   Why  did  Layamon  choose  this  name  for  his 
Chronicle  ?    What  special  literary  interest  attaches  to  the  poem  ? 

5.  What  were  the  Metrical  Romances  ?    What  reasons  led  to  the  great 
interest   in   three   classes  of  romances,   i.e.  Matters  of   France,   Rome,  and 
Britain  ?    What  new  and  important  element  enters  our  literature  in  this  type  ? 
Read  one  of  the  Metrical  Romances  in  English  and  comment  freely  upon  it, 
as  to  interest,  structure,  ideas,  and  literary  quality. 

6.  Tell  the  story  of  Sir  Gawain  and  the  Green  Knight.    What  French  and 
what  Saxon  elements  are  found  in  the  poem  ?    Compare  it  with  Beowulf  to 
show  the  points  of  inferiority  and  superiority.    Compare  Beowulf's  fight  with 
Grendel  or  the  Fire  Drake  and  Sir  Gawain's  encounter  with  the  Green  Knight, 
having  in  mind  (i)  the  virtues  of  the  hero,  (2)  the  qualities  of  the  enemy,  (3) 
the  methods  of  warfare,  (4)  the  purpose  of  the  struggle.    Read  selections  from 
The  Pearl  and  compare  with  Dear's.  Lament.    What  are  the  personal  and  the 
universal  interests  in  each  poem  ? 

7.  Tell  some  typical  story  from  the  Mabinogion.    Where  did  the  Arthurian 
legends  originate,  and  how  did  they  become  known  to  English  readers  ?    What 
modern  writers  have  used  these  legends  ?   What  fine  elements  do  you  find  in 
them  that  are  not  found  in  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  ? 


66 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


8.  What  part  did  Arthur  play  in  the  early  history  of  Britain  ?    How  long 
did  the  struggle  between  Britons  and  Saxons  last  ?    What  Celtic  names  and 
elements  entered  into  English  language  and  literature  ? 

9.  What  is  a  ballad,  and  what  distinguishes  it  from  other  forms  of  poetry  ? 
Describe  the  ballad  which  you  like  best.    Why  did  the  ballad,  more  than  any 
other  form  of  literature,  appeal  to  the  common  people  ?    What  modern  poems 
suggest  the  old  popular  ballad  ?    How  do  these  compare  in  form  and  subject 
matter  with  the  Robin  Hood  ballads  ? 


CHRONOLOGY 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


912.  Northmen  settle  in  Normandy 
1066.  Battle    of    Hastings.    William, 
king  of  England 

1087.  William  Rufus 
1093.  Anselm,  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury 

1096.  First  Crusade 
noo.   Henry  I 
1135.  Stephen 

1147.  Second  Crusade 

1154.  Henry  II 

1189.  Richard  I.    Third  Crusade 

1199.  John 

1215.  Magna  Charta 

1216.  Henry  III 

I23o(«>.).  University  of  Cambridge 
chartered 

1265.  Beginning  of  House  of  Com- 
mons. Simon  de  Montfort 

1272.  Edward  I 

1295.  First  complete  Parliament 

1307.  Edward  .II 
1327.  Edward  III 

1338.  Beginning  of  Hundred  Years' 
War  with  France 


1086.  Domesday  Book  completed 


>..  Anselm's  Cur  Deus  Homo 


i  no.  First  recorded  Miracle  play  in 
England  (see  chapter  on  the 
Drama) 

H37(«V.).  Geoffrey's  History 


i2Oo(cir.}.  Layamon's  Brut 
i225(«V.).  Ancren  Riwle 

1267.  Roger  Bacon's  Opus  Majus 

1300-1400.    York     and     Wakefield. 

Miracle  plays 
i32o(«V.).  Cursor  Mundi 


i34o(?).  Birth  of  Chaucer 
I35o(«>.).  Sir  Gawain.    The  Pearl 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER  (1350-1400) 
THE  NEW  NATIONAL  LIFE  AND  LITERATURE 

History  of  the  Period.  Two  great  movements  may  be  noted  in  the 
complex  life  of  England  during  the  fourteenth  century.  The  first  is 
political,  and  culminates  in  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  It  shows  the 
growth  of  the  English  national  spirit  following  the  victories  of 
Edward  and  the  Black  Prince  on  French  soil,  during  the  Hundred 
Years'  War.  In  the  rush  of  this  great  national  movement,  separating 
England  from  the  political  ties  of  France  and,  to  a  less  degree,  from 
ecclesiastical  bondage  to  Rome,  the  mutual  distrust  and  jealousy 
which  had  divided  nobles  and  commons  were  momentarily  swept 
aside  by  a  wave  of  patriotic  enthusiasm.  The  French  language  lost 
its  official  prestige,  and  English  became  the  speech  not  only  of  the 
common  people  but  of  courts  and  Parliament  as  well. 

The  second  movement  is  social ;  it  falls  largely  within  the  reign 
of  Edward's  successor,  Richard  II,  and  marks  the  growing  discon- 
tent with  the  contrast  between  luxury  and  poverty,  between  the  idle 
wealthy  classes  and  the  overtaxed  peasants.  Sometimes  this  move- 
ment is  quiet  and  strong,  as  when  Wyclif  arouses  the  conscience  of 
England ;  again  it  has  the  portentous  rumble  of  an  approaching 
tempest,  as  when  John  Ball  harangues  a  multitude  of  discontented 
peasants  on  Black  Heath  commons,  using  the  famous  text : 

When  Adam  delved  and  Eve  span 
Who  was  then  the  gentleman  ? 

and  again  it  breaks  out  into  the  violent  rebellion  of  Wat  Tyler.  All 
these  things  show  the  same  Saxon  spirit  that  had  won  its  freedom  in 
a  thousand  years'  struggle  against  foreign  enemies,  and  that  now  felt 
itself  oppressed  by  a  social  and  industrial  tyranny  in  its  own  midst. 
Aside  from  these  two  movements,  the  age  was  one  of  unusual  stir 
and  progress.  Chivalry,  that  mediaeval  institution  of  mixed  good  and 
evil,  was  in  its  Indian  summer,  —  a  sentiment  rather  than  a  practical 
system.  Trade,  and  its  resultant  wealth  and  luxury,  were  increasing 

67 


68  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

enormously.  Following  trade,  as  the  Vikings  had  followed  glory,  the 
English  began  to  be  a  conquering  and  colonizing  people,  like  the  Anglo- 
Saxons.  The  native  shed  something  of  his  insularity  and  became  a 
traveler,  going  first  to  view  the  places  where  trade  had  opened  the 
way,  and  returning  with  wider  interests  and  a  larger  horizon.  Above 
all,  the  first  dawn  of  the  Renaissance  is  heralded  in  England,  as  in 
Spain  and  Italy,  by  the  appearance  of  a  national  literature. 

Five  Writers  of  the  Age.  The  literary  movement  of  the  age 
clearly  reflects  the  stirring  life  of  the  times.  There  is  Lang- 
land,  voicing  the  social  discontent,  preaching  the  equality  of 
men  and  the  dignity  of  labor ;  Wyclif,  greatest  of  English 
religious  reformers,  giving  the  Gospel  to  the  people  in  their 
own  tongue,  and  the  freedom  of  the  Gospel  in  unnumbered 
tracts  and  addresses  ;  Gower,  the  scholar  and  literary  man, 
criticising  this  vigorous  life  and  plainly  afraid  of  its  conse- 
quences ;  and  Mandeville,  the  traveler,  romancing  about  the 
wonders  to  be  seen  abroad.  Above  all  there  is  Chaucer,— 
scholar,  traveler,  business  man,  courtier,  sharing  in  all  the  stir- 
ring life  of  his  times,  and  reflecting  it  in  literature  as  no  other 
but  Shakespeare  has  ever  done.  Outside  of  England  the  great- 
est literary  influence  of  the  age  was  that  of  Dante,  Petrarch, 
and  Boccaccio,  whose  works,  then  at  the  summit  of  their  influ- 
ence in  Italy,  profoundly  affected  the  literature  of  all  Europe. 

CHAUCER  (1340  ?- 1400) 

f  What  man  artow  ?  '  quod  he  5 
f  Thou  lokest  as  thou  woldest  finde  an  hare, 
For  ever  upon  the  ground  I  see  thee  stare. 
Approche  neer,  and  loke  up  merily.  .  .  . 
He  semeth  elvish  by  his  contenaunce.' 

(The  Host's  description  of  Chaucer, 

Prologue,  Sir  Thopas) 

On  reading  Chaucer.  The  difficulties  of  reading  Chaucer 
are  more  apparent  than  real,  being  due  largely  to  obsolete 
spelling,  and  there  is  small  necessity  for  using  any  modern 
versions  of  the  poet's  work,  which  seem  to  miss  the  quiet 


GEOFFREY   CHAUCER 
After  the  Rawlinson  Pastel  Portrait,  Oxford 


THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER  69 

charm  and  dry  humor  of  the  original.  If  the  reader  will 
observe  the  following  general  rules  (which  of  necessity  ignore 
many  differences  in  pronunciation  of  fourteenth-century  Eng- 
lish), he  may,  in  an  hour  or  two,  learn  to  read  Chaucer  almost 
as  easily  as  Shakespeare  :  (i)  Get  the  lilt  of  the  lines,  and  let 
the  meter  itself  decide  how  final  syllables  are  to  be  pro- 
nounced. Remember  that  Chaucer  is  among  the  most  mu- 
sical of  poets,  and  that  there  is  melody  in  nearly  every  line. 
If  the  verse  seems  rough,  it  is  because  we  do  not  read  it 
correctly.  (2)  Vowels  in  Chaucer  have  much  the  same  value 
as  in  modern  German  ;  consonants  are  practically  the  same 
as  in  modern  English.  (3)  Pronounce  aloud  any  strange- 
looking  words.  Where  the  eye  fails,  the  ear  will  often  recog- 
nize the  meaning.  If  eye  and  ear  both  fail,  then  consult  the 
glossary  found  in  every  good  edition  of  the  poet's  works. 
(4)  Final  e  is  usually  sounded  (like  a  in  Virginia)  except  where 
the  following  word  begins  with  a  vowel  or  with  //.  In  the 
latter  case  the  final  syllable  of  one  word  and  the  first  of  the 
word  following  are  run  together,  as  in  reading  Virgil.  At 
the  end  of  a  line  the  e,  if  lightly  pronounced,  adds  melody 
to  the  verse.1 

In  dealing  with  Chaucer's  masterpiece,  the  reader  is  urged 
to  read  widely  at  first,  for  the  simple  pleasure  of  the  stories, 
and  to  remember  that  poetry  and  romance  are  more  interesting 
and  important  than  Middle  English.  When  we  like  and  appre- 
ciate Chaucer  —  his  poetry,  his  humor,  his  good  stories,  his 
kind  heart  —  it  will  be  time  enough  to  study  his  language. 

Life  of  Chaucer.  For  our  convenience  the  life  of  Chaucer  is  divided 
into  three  periods.  The  first,  of  thirty  years,  includes  his  youth  and 
early  manhood,  in  which  time  he  was  influenced  almost  exclusively 
by  French  literary  models.  The  second  period,  of  fifteen  years, 
covers  Chaucer's  active  life  as  diplomat  and  man  of  affairs ;  and  in 
this  the  Italian  influence  seems  stronger  than  the  French.  The 

1  The  reader  may  perhaps  be  more  interested  in  these  final  letters,  which  are  some- 
times sounded  and  again  silent,  if  he  remembers  that  they  represent  the  decaying  inflec- 
tions of  our  old  Anglo-Saxon  speech. 


70  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

third,  of  fifteen  years,  generally  known  as  the  English  period,  is  the 
time  of  Chaucer's  richest  development.  He  lives  at  home,  observes 
life  closely  but  kindly,  and  while  the  French  influence  is  still  strong, 
as  shown  in  the  Canterbury  Tales,  he  seems  to  grow  more  independ- 
ent of  foreign  models  and  is  dominated  chiefly  by  the  vigorous  life  of 
his  own  English  people. 

Chaucer's  boyhood  was  spent  in  London,  on  Thames  Street  near 
the  river,  where  the  world's  commerce  was  continually  coming  and 

going.    There  he  saw  daily  the  shipman  of  the  Canter- 
First  Period     °       *       7     .         ,  •     /•  •,    f-     ,,      -,   , 

bury  1 ales  just  home  in  his  good  ship  Maudelayne,  with 

the  fascination  of  unknown  lands  in  his  clothes  and  conversation. 
Of  his  education  we  know  nothing,  except  that  he  was  a  great  reader. 
His  father  was  a  wine  merchant,  purveyor  to  the  royal  household, 
and  from  this  accidental  relation  between  trade  and  royalty  may 
have  arisen  the  fact  that  at  seventeen  years  Chaucer  was  made  page 
to  the  Princess  Elizabeth.  This  was  the  beginning  of  his  connection 
with  the  brilliant  court,  which  in  the  next  forty  years,  under  three 
kings,  he  was  to  know  so  intimately. 

At  nineteen  he  went  with  the  king  on  one  of  the  many  expedi- 
tions of  the  Hundred  Years'  War,  and  here  he  saw  chivalry  and  all 
the  pageantry  of  mediaeval  war  at  the  height  of  their  outward  splen- 
dor. Taken  prisoner  at  the  unsuccessful  siege  of  Rheims,  he  is  said 
to  have  been  ransomed  by  money  out  of  the  royal  purse.  Returning 
to  England,  he  became  after  a  few  years  squire  of  the  royal  house- 
hold, the  personal  attendant  and  confidant  of  the  king:  It  was  dur- 
ing this  first  period  that  he  married  a  maid  of  honor  to  the  queen. 
This  was  probably  Philippa  Roet,  sister  to  the  wife  of  John  of  Gaunt, 
the  famous  Duke  of  Lancaster.  From  numerous  whimsical  references 
in  his  early  poems,  it  has  been  thought  that  this  marriage  into  a 
noble  family  was  not  a  happy  one ;  but  this  is  purely  a  matter  of 
supposition  or  of  doubtful  inference. 

In  1370  Chaucer  was  sent  abroad  on  the  first  of  those  diplomatic 
missions  that  were  to  occupy  the  greater  part  of  the  next  fifteen  years. 
Two  years  later  he  made  his  first  official  visit  to  Italy,  to  arrange 

a  commercial  treaty  with  Genoa,  and  from  this  time  is 
Second  Period          .       ..  .  ,     ,        ,  .      .  .     ..^ 

noticeable  a  rapid  development  in  his  literary  powers 

and  the  prominence  of  Italian  literary  influences.  During  the  inter- 
vals between  his  different  missions  he  filled  various  offices  at  home, 
chief  of  which  was  Comptroller  of  Customs  at  the  port  of  London. 
An  enormous  amount  of  personal  labor  was  involved  ;  but  Chaucer 


THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER  71 

seems  to  have  found  time  to  follow  his  spirit  into  the  new  fields  of 
Italian  literature : 

For  whan  thy  labour  doon  al  is. 

And  hast  y-maad  thy  rekeninges, 

In  stede  of  reste  and  newe  thinges, 

Thou  gost  hoom  to  thy  hous  anoon, 

And,  also  domb  as  any  stoon, 

Thou  sittest  at  another  boke 

Til  fully  daswed  is  thy  loke, 

And  livest  thus  as  an  hermyte.1 

In  1386  Chaucer  was  elected  member  of  Parliament  from  Kent, 
and  the  distinctly  English  period  of  his  life  and  work  begins.  Though 

exceedingly  busy  in  public  affairs  and  as  receiver  of  cus- 
Third  Period  ,  .  V  F.11      .,,.,,        ,  ,  .  ,         , 

toms,  his  heart  was  still  with  his  books,  from  which  only 

nature  could  win  him  : 

And  as  for  me,  though  that  my  wit  be  lyte, 

On  bokes  for  to  rede  I  me  delyte, 

And  to  hem  yeve  I  feyth  and  ful  credence, 

And  in  myn  herte  have  hem  in  reverence 

So  hertely,  that  ther  is  game  noon 

That  fro  my  bokes  maketh  me  to  goon, 

But  hit  be  seldom,  on  the  holyday ; 

Save,  certeynly,  whan  that  the  month  of  May 

Is  comen,  and  that  I  here  the  foules  singe, 

And  that  the  floures  ginnen  for  to  springe  — 

Farwel  my  book  and  my  devocioun ! 2 

In  the  fourteenth  century  politics  seems  to  have  been,  for  honest 
men,  a  very  uncertain  business.  Chaucer  naturally  adhered  to  the 
party  of  John  of  Gaunt,  and  his  fortunes  rose  or  fell  with  those  of  his 
leader.  From  this  time  until  his  death  he  is  up  and  down  on  the 
political  ladder ;  to-day  with  money  and  good  prospects,  to-morrow 
in  poverty  and  neglect,  writing  his  "  Complaint  to  His  Empty  Purs," 
which  he  humorously  calls  his  "  saveour  doun  in  this  werlde  here." 
This  poem  called  the  king's  attention  to  the  poet's  need  and  increased 
his  pension  ;  but  he  had  but  few  months  to  enjoy  the  effect  of  this 
unusual  "Complaint."  For  he  died  the  next  year,  1400,  and  was 
buried  with  honor  in  Westminster  Abbey.  The  last  period  of  his  life, 
though  outwardly  most  troubled,  was  the  most  fruitful  of  all.  His 

1  House  of  Fame,  II,  652  ff.    The  passage  is  more  or  less  autobiographical. 

2  Legend  of  Good  Women,  Prologue,  11.  29  ff. 


72  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

"Truth,"  or  "Good  Counsel,"  reveals  the  quiet,  beautiful  spirit  of  his 
life,  unspoiled  either  by  the  greed  of  trade  or  the  trickery  of  politics  : 

Flee  fro  the  prees,  and  dwelle  with  sothfastnesse, 
Suffyce  unto  thy  good,  though  hit  be  smal ; 
For  hord  l  hath  hate,  and  climbing  tikelnesse, 
Prees  z  hath  envye,  and  wele  3  blent 4  overal ; 
Savour  no  more  than  thee  bihove  shal ; 
Werk  5  wel  thyself,  that  other  folk  canst  rede ; 
And  trouthe  shal  delivere,  hit  is  no  drede. 

Tempest6  thee  noght  al  croked  to  redresse, 

In  trust  of  hir 7  that  turneth  as  a  bal : 

Gret  reste  stant  in  litel  besinesse  ; 

And  eek  be  war  to  sporne  8  ageyn  an  al 9; 

Stryve  noght,  as  doth  the  crokke  with  the  wal. 

Daunte  10  thyself,  that  dauntest  otheres  dede  ; 

And  trouthe  shal  delivere,  hit  is  no  drede. 

That  thee  is  sent,  receyve  in  buxumnesse, 

The  wrastling  for  this  worlde  axeth  a  fal. 

Her  nis  non  hoom,  her  nis  but  wildernesse  : 

Forth,  pilgrim,  forth  !    Forth,  beste,  out  of  thy  stall 

Know  thy  contree,  look  up,  thank  God  of  al ; 

Hold  the  hye  wey,  and  lat  thy  gost  thee  lede : 

And  trouthe  shal  delivere,  hit  is  no  drede. 

Works  of  Chaucer,  First  Period.  The  works  of  Chaucer 
are  roughly  divided  into  three  classes,  corresponding  to  the 
three  periods  of  his  life.  It  should  be  remembered,  however, 
that  it  is  impossible  to  fix  exact  dates  for  most  of  his  works. 
Some  of  his  Canterbury  Tales  were  written  earlier  than  the 
English  period,  and  were  only  grouped  with  the  others  in  his 
final  arrangement. 

The  best  known,  though  not  the  best,  poem  of  the  first 
period  is  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose^-  a  translation  from  the 
French  Roman  de  la  Rose,  the  most  popular  poem  of  the 

1  wealth.  2  the  crowd.  3  success.  4  blinds.  5  act.  6  trouble. 

7  i.e.  the  goddess  Fortune.  8  kick.  9  awl.  10  judge. 

11  For  the  typography  of  titles  the  author  has  adopted  the  plan  of  putting  the  titles  of 
all  books,  and  of  all  important  works  generally  regarded  as  single  books,  in  italics.  Indi- 
vidual poems,  essays,  etc.,  are  in  Roman  letters  with  quotation  marks.  Thus  we  have 
the  "  Knight's  Tale,"  or  the  story  of  "  Palamon  and  Arcite,"  in  the  Canterbury  Tales. 
This  system  seems  on  the  whole  the  best,  though  it  may  result  in  some  inconsistencies. 


THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER  73 

Middle  Ages,  —  a  graceful  but  exceedingly  tiresome  allegory 
of  the  whole  course  of  love.  The  Rose  growing  in  its  mystic 
garden  is  typical  of  the  lady  Beauty.  Gathering  the  Rose 
represents  the  lover's  attempt  to  win  his  lady's  favor ;  and 
the  different  feelings  aroused  —  Love,  Hate,  Envy,  Jealousy, 
Idleness,  Sweet  Looks  —  are  the  allegorical  persons  of  the 
poet's  drama.  Chaucer  translated  this  universal  favorite,  put- 
ting in  some  original  English  touches ;  but  of  the  present 
Romaunt  only  the  first  seventeen  hundred  lines  are  believed 
to  be  Chaucer's  own  work. 

Perhaps  the  best  poem  of  this  period  is  the  "Dethe  of 
Blanche  the  Duchesse,"  better  known  as  the  "  Boke  of  the 
Duchesse,"  a  poem  of  considerable  dramatic  and  emotional 
power,  written  after  the  death  of  Blanche,  wife  of  Chaucer's 
patron,  John  of  Gaunt.  Additional  poems  are  the  "Compleynte 
to  Pite,"  a  graceful  love  poem;  the  "A  B  C,"  a  prayer  to  the 
Virgin,  translated  from  the  French  of  a  Cistercian  monk,  its 
verses  beginning  with  the  successive  letters  of  the  alphabet ; 
and  a  number  of  what  Chaucer  calls  "ballads,  roundels,  and 
virelays,"  with  which,  says  his  friend  Gower,  "the  land  was 
filled."  The  latter  were  imitations  of  the  prevailing  French 
love  ditties. 

Second  Period.  The  chief  work  of  the  second  or  Italian 
period  is  Troilus  and  Criseyde,  a  poem  of  eight  thousand 
lines.  The  original  story  was  a  favorite  of  many  authors 
during  the  Middle  Ages,  and  Shakespeare  makes  use  of  it  in 
his  Troilus  and  Cressida.  The  immediate  source  of  Chaucer's 
poem  is  Boccaccio's  // Filostrato,  "the  love-smitten  one";  but 
he  uses  his  material  very  freely,  to  reflect  the  ideals  of  his 
own  age  and  society,  and  so  gives  to  the  whole  story  a  dra- 
matic force  and  beauty  which  it  had  never  known  before. 

The  "  Hous  of  Fame"  is  one  of  Chaucer's  unfinished  poems, 
having  the  rare  combination  of  lofty  thought  and  simple, 
homely  language,  showing  the  influence  of  the  great  Italian 
master.  In  the  poem  the  author  is  carried  away  in  a  dream 


74  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

by  a  great  eagle  from  the  brittle  temple  of  Venus,  in  a 
sandy  wilderness,  up  to  the  hall  of  fame.  To  this  house  come 
all  rumors  of  earth,  as  the  sparks  fly  upward.  The  house 
stands  on  a  rock  of  ice 

writen  ful  of  names 
Of  folk  that  hadden  grete  fames. 

Many  of  these  have  disappeared  as  the  ice  melted ;  but  the 
older  names  are  clear  as  when  first  written.  For  many  of  his 
ideas  Chaucer  is  indebted  to  Dante,  Ovid,  and  Virgil ;  but 
the  unusual  conception  and  the  splendid  workmanship  are  all 
his  own. 

The  third  great  poem  of  the  period  is  the  Legende  of  Goode 
Wimmen.  As  he  is  resting  in  the  fields  among  the  daisies, 
he  falls  asleep  and  a  gay  procession  draws  near.  First  comes 
the  love  god,  leading  by  the  hand  Alcestis,  model  of  all  wifely 
virtues,  whose  emblem  is  the  daisy ;  and  behind  them  follow 
a  troup  of  glorious  women,  all  of  whom  have  been  faithful  in 
love.  They  gather  about  the  poet ;  the  god  upbraids  him  for 
having  translated  the  Romance  of  the  Rose,  and  for  his  early 
poems  reflecting  on  the  vanity  and  fickleness  of  women. 
Alcestis  intercedes  for  him,  and  offers  pardon  if  he  will  atone 
for  his  errors  by  writing  a  "glorious  legend  of  good  women." 
Chaucer  promises,  and  as  soon  as  he  awakes  sets  himself  to 
the  task.  Nine  legends  were  written,  of  which  "Thisbe"  is 
perhaps  the  best.  It  is  probable  that  Chaucer  intended  to 
make  this  his  masterpiece,  devoting  many  years  to  stories  of 
famous  women  who  were  true  to  love ;  but  either  because  he 
wearied  of  his  theme,  or  because  the  plan  of  the  Canterbury  Tales 
was  growing  in  his  mind,  he  abandoned  the  task  in  the  middle 
of  his  ninth  legend, — fortunately,  perhaps,  for  the  reader  will 
find  the  Prologue  more  interesting  than  any  of  the  legends. 

Third  Period.  Chaucer's  masterpiece,  the  Canterbury  Tales, 
one  of  the  most  famous  works  in  all  literature,  fills  the  third 
or  English  period  of  his  life.  The  plan  of  the  work  is  magnifi- 
cent :  to  represent  the  wide  sweep  of  English  life  by  gathering 


THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER 


75 


a  motley  company  together  and  letting  each  class  of  society 
tell  its  own  favorite  stories.  Though  the  great  work  was  never 
finished,  Chaucer  succeeded  in  his  purpose  so  well  that  in  the 
Canterbury  Tales  he  has  given  us  a  picture  of  contemporary 
English  life,  its  work  and  play,  its  deeds  and  dreams,  its  fun 
and  sympathy  and  hearty  joy  of  living,  such  as  no  other  single 
work  of  literature  has  ever  equaled. 

Plan  of  the  Canterbury  Tales.    Opposite  old  London,  at 
the  southern  end  of  London  Bridge,  once  stood  the  Tabard 


TABARD  INN 

Inn  of  Southwark,  a  quarter  made  famous  not  only  by  the 
Canterbury  Tales,  but  also  by  the  first  playhouses  where 
Shakespeare  had  his  training.  This  Southwark  was  the  point 
of  departure  of  all  travel  to  the  south  of  England,  especially 
of  those  mediaeval  pilgrimages  to  the  shrine  of  Thomas  a 
Becket  in  Canterbury.  On  a  spring  evening,  at  the  inspiring 
time  of  the  year  when  "longen  folk  to  goon  on  pilgrimages," 
Chaucer  alights  at  the  Tabard  Inn,  and  finds  it  occupied  by 
a  various  company  of  people  bent  on  a  pilgrimage.  Chance 
alone  had  brought  them  together;  for  it  was  the  custom  of 


;6  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

pilgrims  to  wait  at  some  friendly  inn  until  a  sufficient  conv 
pany  were  gathered  to  make  the  journey  pleasant  and  safe 
from  robbers  that  might  be  encountered  on  the  way.  Chaucer 
joins  this  company,  which  includes  all  classes  of  English  soci- 
ety, from  the  Oxford  scholar  to  the  drunken  miller,  and  accepts 
gladly  their  invitation  to  go  with  them  on  the  morrow. 

At  supper  the  jovial  host  of  the  Tabard  Inn  suggests  that, 
to  enliven  the  journey,  each  of  the  company  shall  tell  four 
tales,  two  going  and  two  coming,  on  whatever  subject  shall 
suit  him  best.  The  host  will  travel  with  them  as  master  of 
ceremonies,  and  whoever  tells  the  best  story  shall  be  given  a 
fine  supper  at  the  general  expense  when  they  all  come  back 
again,  —  a  shrewd  bit  of  business  and  a  fine  idea,  as  the  pil- 
grims all  agree. 

When  they  draw  lots  for  the  first  story  the  chance  falls  to 
the  Knight,  who  tells  one  of  the  best  of  the  Canterbury  Tales, 
the  chivalric  story  of  "  Palamon  and  Arcite."  Then  the  tales 
follow  rapidly,  each  with  its  prologue  and  epilogue,  telling  how 
the  story  came  about,  and  its  effects  on  the  merry  company. 
Interruptions  are  numerous ;  the  narrative  is  full  of  life  and 
movement,  as  when  the  miller  gets  drunk  and  insists  on  tell- 
ing his  tale  out  of  season,  or  when  they  stop  at  a  friendly  inn 
for  the  night,  or  when  the  poet  with  sly  humor  starts  his  story 
of  "Sir  Thopas,"  in  dreary  imitation  of  the  metrical  romances 
of  the  clay,  and  is  roared  at  by  the  host  for  his  "drasty 
ryming."  With  Chaucer  we  laugh  at  his  own  expense,  and 
are  ready  for  the  next  tale. 

From  the  number  of  persons  in  the  company,  thirty-two  in 
all,  it  is  evident  that  Chaucer  meditated  an  immense  work  of 
one  hundred  and  twenty-eight  tales,  which  should  cover  the 
whole  life  of  England.  Only  twenty-four  were  written  ;  some 
of  these  are  incomplete,  and  others  are  taken  from  his  earlier 
work  to  fill  out  the  general  plan  of  the  Canterbiiry  Tales. 
Incomplete  as  they  are,  they  cover  a  wide  range,  including 
stories  of  love  and  chivalry,  of  saints  and  legends,  travels, 


THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER  77 

adventures,  animal  fables,  allegory,  satires,  and  the  coarse 
humor  of  the  common  people.  Though  all  but  two  are  written 
in  verse  and  abound  in  exquisite  poetical  touches,  they  are 
stories  as  well  as  poems,  and  Chaucer  is  to  be  regarded  as 
our  first  short-story  teller  as  well  as  our  first  modern  poet. 
The  work  ends  with  a  kindly  farewell  from  the  poet  to  his 
reader,  and  so  "here  taketh  the  makere  of  this  book  his  leve." 

Prologue  to  the  Canterbury  Tales.  In  the  famous  "Prologue" 
the  poet  makes  us  acquainted  with  the  various  characters  of 
his  drama.  Until  Chaucer's  day  popular  literature  had  been 
busy  chiefly  with  the  gods  and  heroes  of  a  golden  age ;  it 

d  been  essentially  romantic,  and  so  had  never  attempted 
o  study  men  and  women  as  they  are,  or  to  describe  them  so 
:hat  the  reader  recognizes  them,  not  as  ideal  heroes,  but  as 
his  own  neighbors.  Chaucer  not  only  attempted  this  new  real- 
istic task,  but  accomplished  it  so  well  that  his  characters  were 
instantly  recognized  as  true  to  life,  and  they  have  since  be- 
come the  permanent  possession  of  our  literature.  Beowulf  and 
Roland  are  ideal  heroes,  essentially  creatures  of  the  imagina- 
tion ;  but  the  merry  host  of  the  Tabard  Inn,  Madame  Eglan- 
tyne,  the  fat  monk,  the  parish  priest,  the  kindly  plowman, 
the  poor  scholar  with  his  "bookes  black  and  red,"-  — all  seem 
more  like  personal  acquaintances  than  characters  in  a  book. 
Says  Dry  den  :  "  I  see  all  the  pilgrims,  their  humours,  their 
features  and  their  very  dress,  as  distinctly  as  if  I  had  supped 
with  them  at  the  Tabard  in  South  wark."  Chaucer  is  the  first 
English  writer  to  bring  the  atmosphere  of  romantic  interest 
about  the  men  and  women  and  the  daily  work  of  one's  own 
world,  —  which  is  the  aim  of  nearly  all  modern  literature. 

The  historian  of  our  literature  is  tempted  to  linger  over 
this  "  Prologue  "  and  to  quote  from  it  passage  after  passage 
to  show  how  keenly  and  yet  kindly  our  first  modern  poet 
observed  his  fellow-men.  The  characters,  too,  attract  one 
like  a  good  play:  the  "verray  parfit  gentil  knight"  and  his 
manly  son,  the  modest  prioress,  model  of  sweet  piety  and 


78  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

society  manners,  the  sporting  monk  and  the  fat  friar,  the  dis- 
creet man  of  law,  the  well-fed  country  squire,  the  sailor  just 
home  from  sea,  the  canny  doctor,  the  lovable  parish  priest 
who  taught  true  religion  to  his  flock,  but  "first  he  folwed 
it  himselve";  the  coarse  but  good-hearted  Wyf  of  Bath,  the 
thieving  miller  leading  the  pilgrims  to  the  music  of  his  bag- 
pipe, —  all  these  and  many  others  from  every  walk  of  English 
life,  and  all  described  with  a  quiet,  kindly  humor  which  seeks 
instinctively  the  best  in  human  nature,  and  which  has  an 
ample  garment  of  charity  to  cover  even  its  faults  and  failings. 
"  Here,"  indeed,  as  Dryden  says,  "is  God's  plenty."  Probably 
no  keener  or  kinder  critic  ever  described  his  fellows ;  and  in 
this  immortal  "  Prologue  "  Chaucer  is  a  model  for  all  those 
who  would  put  our  human  life  into  writing.  The  student 
should  read  it  entire,  as  an  introduction  not  only  to  the  poet 
but  to  all  our  modern  literature. 

The  Knight's  Tale.  As  a  story,  "  Palamon  and  Arcite  "  is, 
in  many  respects,  the  best  of  the  Canterbury  Tales,  reflecting 
as  it  does  the  ideals  of  the  time  in  regard  to  romantic  love 
and  knightly  duty.  Though  its  dialogues  and  descriptions 
are  somewhat  too  long  and  interrupt  the  story,  yet  it  shows 
Chaucer  at  his  best  in  his  dramatic  power,  his  exquisite 
appreciation  of  nature,  and  his  tender  yet  profound  philosophy 
of  living,  which  could  overlook  much  of  human  frailty  in  the 
thought  that 

Infinite  been  the  sorwes  and  the  teres 
Of  olde  folk,  and  folk  of  tendre  yeres. 

The  idea  of  the  story  was  borrowed  from  Boccaccio  ;  but  parts 
of  the  original  tale  were  much  older  and  belonged  to  the  com- 
mon literary  stock  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Like  Shakespeare, 
Chaucer  took  the  material  for  his  poems  wherever  he  found 
it,  and  his  originality  consists  in  giving  to  an  old  story  some 
present  human  interest,  making  it  express  the  life  and  ideals 
of  his  own  age.  In  this  respect  the  "  Knight's  Tale  "  is  remark- 
able. Its  names  are  those  of  an  ancient  civilization,  but  its 


THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER  79 

characters  are  men  and  women  of  the  English  nobility  as 
Chaucer  knew  them.  In  consequence  the  story  has  many 
anachronisms,  such  as  the  mediaeval  tournament  before  the 
temple  of  Mars ;  but  the  reader  scarcely  notices  these  things, 

ing  absorbed  in  the  dramatic  interest  of  the  narrative. 

Briefly,  the  "  Knight's  Tale  "  is  the  story  of  two  young  men, 
fast  friends,  who  are  found  wounded  on  the  battlefield  and 
taken  prisoners  to  Athens.  There  from  their  dungeon  win- 
dow they  behold  the  fair  maid  Emily  ;  both  fall  desperately 
in  love  with  her,  and  their  friendship  turns  to  strenuous 
rivalry.  One  is  pardoned ;  the  other  escapes ;  and  then 
nights,  empires,  nature,  —  the  whole  universe  follows  their 
desperate  efforts  to  win  one  small  maiden,  who  prays  mean- 
while to  be  delivered  from  both  her  bothersome  suitors.  As 
he  best  of  the  Canterbury  Tales  are  now  easily  accessible, 
e  omit  here  all  quotations.  The  story  must  be  read  entire, 
ith  the  Prioress'  tale  of  Hugh  of  Lincoln,  the  Clerk's  tale 

Patient  Griselda,  and  the  Nun's  Priest's  merry  tale  of 
Chanticleer  and  the  Fox,  if  the  reader  would  appreciate  the 
variety  and  charm  of  our  first  modern  poet  and  story-teller. 

Form  of  Chaucer's  Poetry.  There  are  three  principal  meters 
to  be  found  in  Chaucer's  verse.  In  the  Canterbury  Tales  he 
uses  lines  of  ten  syllables  and  five  accents  each,  and  the  lines 
run  in  couplets  : 

His  eyen  twinkled  in  his  heed  aright 
As  doon  the  sterres  in  the  frosty  night. 

The  same  musical  measure,  arranged  in  seven-line  stanzas, 
but  with  a  different  rime,  called  the  Rime  Royal,  is  found  in 
its  most  perfect  form  in  Troilus. 

O  blisful  light,  of  whiche  the  bemes  clere 
Adorneth  al  the  thridde  hevene  faire  ! 
O  sonnes  leef,  O  Joves  doughter  dere, 
Plesaunce  of  love,  O  goodly  debonaire, 
In  gentil  hertes  ay  redy  to  repaire  ! 
O  verray  cause  of  hele  and  of  gladnesse, 
Y-heried  be  thy  might  and  thy  goodnesse  J 


80  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

In  hevene  and  helle,  in  erthe  and  salte  see 
Is  felt  thy  might,  if  that  I  wel  descerne  ; 
As  man,  brid,  best,  fish,  herbe  and  grene  tree 
Thee  fele  in  tymes  with  vapour  eterne. 
God  loveth,  and  to  love  wol  nought  werne  ; 
And  in  this  world  no  lyves  creature, 
With-outen  love,  is  worth,  or  may  endure.1 

The  third  meter  is  the  eight-syllable  line  with  four  accents,  the 
lines  riming  in  couplets,  as  in'the  "  Boke  of  the  Duchesse": 

Thereto  she  coude  so  wel  pleye, 
Whan  that  hir  liste,  that  I  dar  seye 
That  she  was  lyk  to  torche  bright, 
That  every  man  may  take-of  light 
Ynough,  and  hit  hath  never  the  lesse. 

Besides  these  principal  meters,  Chaucer  in  his  short  poems 
used  many  other  poetical  forms  modeled  after  the  French,  who 
in  the  fourteenth  century  were  cunning  workers  in  every  form 
of  verse.  Chief  among  these  are  the  difficult  but  exquisite 
rondel,  "  Now  wel  com  Somer  with  thy  sonne  softe,"  which 
closes  the  "Parliament  of  Fowls,"  and  the  ballad,  "Flee  fro 
the  prees,"  which  has  been  already  quoted.  In  the  "Monk's 
Tale"  there  is  a  melodious  measure  which  may  have  furnished 
the  model  for  Spenser's  famous  stanza.2  Chaucer's  poetry  is 
extremely  musical  and  must  be  judged  by  the  ear  rather  than 
by  the  eye.  To  the  modern  reader  the  lines  appear  broken 
and  uneven  ;  but  if  one  reads  them  over  a  few  times,  he  soon 
catches  the  perfect  swing  of  the  measure,  and  finds  that  he  is 
in  the  hands  of  a  master  whose  ear  is  delicately  sensitive  to 
the  smallest  accent.  There  is  a  lilt  in  all  his  lines  which  is 
marvelous  when  we  consider  that  he  is  the  first  to  show  us 
the  poetic  possibilities  of  the  language.  His  claim  upon  our 
gratitude  is  twofold  : 3  first,  for  discovering  the  music  that  is 
in  our  English  speech ;  and  second,  for  his  influence  in  fixing 
the  Midland  dialect  as  the  literary  language  of  England. 

1  Troilus  and  Criseyde,  III.  2  See  p.  107. 

3  For  a  summary  of  Chaucer's  work  and  place  in  our  literature,  see  the  Comparison 
with  Spenser,  p.  in. 


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an 


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: 


THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER  8 1 

CHAUCER'S   CONTEMPORARIES 
WILLIAM  LANGLAND  (1332?  .  .  .  ?) 

Life.  Very  little  is  known  of  Lan gland.  He  was  born  probably 
near  Malvern,  in  Worcestershire,  the  son  of  a  poor  freeman,  and  in 
his  early  life  lived  in  the  fields  as  a  shepherd.  Later  he  went  to 
London  with  his  wife  and  children,  getting  a  hungry  living  as  clerk  in 
the  church.  His  real  life  meanwhile  was  that  of  a  seer,  a  prophet  after 
Isaiah's  own  heart,  if  we  may  judge  by  the  prophecy  which  soon 
found  a  voice  in  Piers  Plowman.  In  1399,  after  the  success  of  his 
great  work,  he  was  possibly  writing  another  poem  called  Richard  the 

'edeless,  a  protest  against  Richard  II ;  but  we  are  not  certain  of  the 
authorship  of  this  poem,  which  was  left  unfinished  by  the  assassina- 
tion of  the  king.  After  1399  Langland  disappears  utterly,  and  the 

ate  of  his  death  is  unknown. 


Piers  Plowman.  "The  voice  of  him  that  crieth  in  the 
wilderness,  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord,"  might  well  be 
written  at  the  beginning  of  this  remarkable  poem.  Truth,  sin- 
cerity, a  direct  and  practical  appeal  to  conscience,  and  a  vision 
of  right  triumphant  over  wrong, — these  are  the  elements  of  all 
prophecy  ;  and  it  was  undoubtedly  these  elements  in  Piers 
Plowman  that  produced  such  an  impression  on  the  people  of 
England.  For  centuries  literature  had  been  busy  in  pleasing 
the  upper  classes  chiefly ;  but  here  at  last  was  a  great  poem 
which  appealed  directly  to  the  common  people,  and  its  suc- 
cess was  enormous.  The  whole  poem  is  traditionally  attrib- 
uted to  Langland ;  but  it  is  now  known  to  be  the  work  of 
several  different  writers.  It  first  appeared  in  1 362  as  a  poem 
of  eighteen  hundred  lines,  and  this  may  have  been  Langland's 
work.  In  the  next  thirty  years,  during  the  desperate  social 
conditions  which  led  to  Tyler's  Rebellion,  it  was  repeatedly 
revised  and  enlarged  by  different  hands  till  it  reached  its 
final  form  of  about  fifteen  thousand  lines. 

The  poem  as  we  read  it  now  is  in  two  distinct  parts,  the 
first  containing  the  vision,  of  Piers,  the  second  a  series  of 


82  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

visions  called  "The  Search  for  Dowel,  Dobet,  Dobest "  (do  well, 
better,  best).  The  entire  poem  is  in  strongly  accented,  alliter- 
ative lines,  something  like  Beowulf,  and  its  immense  popularity 
shows  that  the  common  people  still  cherished  this  easily  mem- 
orized form  of  Saxon  poetry.  Its  tremendous  appeal  to  justice 
and  common  honesty,  its  clarion  call  to  every  man,  whether 
king,  priest,  noble,  or  laborer,  to  do  his  Christian  duty,  takes 
from  it  any  trace  of  prejudice  or  bigotry  with  which  such 
works  usually  abound.  Its  loyalty  to  the  Church,  while  de- 
nouncing abuses  that  had  crept  into  it  in  that  period,  was 
one  of  the  great  influences  which  led  to  the  Reformation  in 
England.  Its  two  great  principles,  the  equality  of  men  before 
God  and  the  dignity  of  honest  labor,  roused  a  whole  nation 
of  freemen.  Altogether  it  is  one  of  the  world's  great  works, 
partly  because  of  its  national  influence,  partly  because  it  is 
the  very  best  picture  we  possess  of  the  social  life  of  the  four- 
teenth century  : 

Briefly,  Piers  Plowman  is  an  allegory  of  life.  In  the  first  vision,  that 
of  the  "Field  Full  of  Folk,"  the  poet  lies  down  on  the  Malvern  Hills  on 
a  May  morning,  and  a  vision  comes  to  him  in  sleep.  On  the  plain  beneath 
him  gather  a  multitude  of  folk,  a  vast  crowd  expressing  the  varied  life 
of  the  world.  All  classes  and  conditions  are  there  ;  workingmen  are 
toiling  that  others  may  seize  all  the  first  fruits  of  their  labor  and 
live  high  on  the  proceeds ;  and  the  genius  of  the  throng  is  Lady 
Bribery,  a  powerfully  drawn  figure,  expressing  the  corrupt  social  life 
of  the  times. 

The  next  visions  are  those  of  the  Seven  Deadly  Sins,  allegorical  fig- 
ures, but  powerful  as  those  of  Pilgrim's  Progress,  making  the  allegories 
of  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose  seem  like  shadows  in  comparison.  These  all 
came  to  Piers  asking  the  way  to  Truth  ;  but  Piers  is  plowing  his  half 
acre  and  refuses  to  leave  his  work  and  lead  them.  He  sets  them  all  to 
honest  toil  as  the  best  possible  remedy  for  their  vices,  and  preaches  the 
gospel  of  work  as  a  preparation  for  salvation.  Throughout  the  poem 
Piers  bears  strong  resemblance  to  John  Baptist  preaching  to  the  crowds 
in  the  wilderness.  The  later  visions  are  proclamations  of  the  moral 
and  spiritual  life  of  man.  The  poem  grows  dramatic  in  its  intensity, 
rising  to  its  highest  power  in  Piers's  triumph  over  Death.  And  then 
the  poet  wakes  from  his  vision  with  the  sound  of  Easter  bells  ringing 
in  his  ears. 


THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER  83 

Here  are  a  few  lines  to  illustrate  the  style  and  language  ; 
but  the  whole  poem  must  be  read  if  one  is  to  understand  its 
crude  strength  and  prophetic  spirit : 

In  a  somer  sesun,  whon  softe  was  the  sonne, 

I  schop1  me  into  a  shroud,  as  I  a  scheep  were, 

In  habite  as  an  heremite,  unholy  of  werkes, 

Went  wyde  in  this  world,  wondres  to  here. 

Bote  in  a  Mayes  mornynge,  on  Malverne  hulles, 

Me  byfel  a  ferly,2  of  fairie  me  thoughte. 

I  was  wery,  forwandred,  and  went  me  to  reste 

Undur  a  brod  banke,  bi  a  bourne  3  side  ; 

And  as  I  lay  and  lened,  and  loked  on  the  watres, 

I  slumbred  in  a  slepyng  —  hit  swyed4  so  murie.  .  .  . 

JOHN  WYCLIF  (i324?-i384) 

Wyclif,  as  a  man,  is  by  far  the  most  powerful  English  fig- 
ure of  the  fourteenth  century.  The  immense  influence  of  his 
preaching  in  the  native  tongue,  and  the  power  of  his  Lollards 
to  stir  the  souls  of  the  common  folk,  are  too  well  known  his- 
torically to  need  repetition.  Though  a  university  man  and  a 
profound  scholar,  he  sides  with  Langland,  and  his  interests 
are  with  the  people  rather  than  with  the  privileged  classes, 
for  whom  Chaucer  writes.  His  great  work,  which  earned  him 
his  title  of  "father  of  English  prose,"  is  the  translation  of  the 
Bible.  Wyclif  himself  translated  the  gospels,  and  much  more 
of  the  New  Testament ;  the  rest  was  finished  by  his  followers, 
especially  by  Nicholas  of  Hereford.  These  translations  were 
made  from  the  Latin  Vulgate,  not  from  the  original  Greek 
and  Hebrew,  and  the  whole  work  was  revised  in  1388  by 
John  Purvey,  a  disciple  of  Wyclif.  It  is  impossible  to  over- 
estimate the  influence  of  this  work,  both  on  our  English  prose 
and  on  the  lives  of  the  English  people. 

Though  Wyclif 's  works  are  now  unread,  except  by  occa- 
sional scholars,  he  still  occupies  a  very  high  place  in  our 
literature.  His  translation  of  the  Bible  was  slowly  copied  all 

1  clad.  2  wonder.  3  brook.  4  sounded. 


84 


ENGLISH   LITERATURE 


over  England,  and  so  fixed  a  national  standard  of  English  prose 
to  replace  the  various  dialects.  Portions  of  this  translation,  in 
the  form  of  favorite  passages  from  Scripture,  were  copied  by 
thousands,  and  for  the  first  time  in  our  history  a  standard  of  pure 
English  was  established  in  the  homes  of  the  common  people. 
As  a  suggestion  of  the  language  of  that  day,  we  quote  a 
few  familiar  sentences  from  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  as 

given  in  the  later  version 
of  Wyclif's  Gospel : 

And  he  openyde  his  mouth, 
and  taughte  hem,  and  seide, 
Blessid  ben  pore  men  in  spirit, 
for  the  kyngdom  of  hevenes 
is  herne.1  Blessid  ben  mylde 
men,  for  thei  schulen  welde2 
the  erthe.  Blessid  ben  thei 
that  mornen,  for  thei  schulen 
be  coumfortid.  Blessid  ben 
thei  that  hungren  and  thristen 
rightwisnesse,8  for  thei  schulen 
be  fulfillid.  Blessid  ben  merci- 
ful men,  for  thei  schulen  gete 
merci.  Blessid  ben  thei  that 
ben  of  clene  herte,  for  thei 
schulen  se  God.  Blessid  ben 
pesible  men,  for  thei  schulen 
be  clepid 4  Goddis  children. 
Blessid  ben  thei  that  suffren 
persecusioun  for  rightfulnesse,  for  the  kyngdom  of  hevenes  is  herne.1  .  .  . 
Eftsoone  ye  han  herd,  that  it  was  seid  to  elde  men,  Thou  schalt  not 
forswere,  but  thou  schalt  yelde5  thin  othis  to  the  Lord.  But  Y  seie6  to 
you,  that  ye  swere  not  for  ony  thing ;  .  .  .  but  be  youre  worde,  yhe, 
yhe  ;  nay,  nay ;  and  that  that  is  more  than  these,  is  of  yvel.  .  .  . 

Ye  han  herd  that  it  was  seid,  Thou  schalt  love  thi  neighbore,  and  hate 
thin  enemye.  But  Y  seie  to  you,  love  ye  youre  enemyes,  do  ye  wel  to  hem7 
that  hatiden8  you,  and  preye  ye  for  hem  that  pursuen9  and  sclaundren10 
you;  that  ye  be  the  sones  of  youre  Fadir  that  is  in  hevenes,  that  makith 
his  sunne  to  rise  upon  goode  and  yvele  men,  and  reyneth  n  on  just  men 
and  unjuste.  .  .  .  Therefore  be  ye  parfit,  as  youre  hevenli  Fadir  is  parfit. 

1  theirs  2  rule  3  righteousness  4  called  5  yield  6  say 

7  them  8  hate  9  persecute  W  slander  "  rains 


JOHN  WYCLIF 


THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER  85 

JOHN  MANDEVILLE 

About  the  year  1356  there  appeared  in  England  an  extraor- 
dinary book  called  the  Voyage  and  Travail  of  Sir  John  Maun- 
Mandeviiie's  devil le,  written  in  excellent  style  in  the  Midland 
Travels  dialect,  which  was  then  becoming  the  literary  lan- 
guage of  England.  For  years  this  interesting  work  and  its 
unknown  author  were  subjects  of  endless  dispute ;  but  it  is 
now  fairly  certain  that  this  collection  of  travelers'  tales  is 
simply  a  compilation  from  Odoric,  Marco  Polo,  and  various 
other  sources.  The  original  work  was  probably  in  French, 
which  was  speedily  translated  into  Latin,  then  into  English 
and  other  languages  ;  and  wherever  it  appeared  it  became 
extremely  popular,  its  marvelous  stories  of  foreign  lands 
being  exactly  suited  to  the  credulous  spirit  of  the  age.1  At 
the  present  time  there  are  said  to  be  three  hundred  copied 
manuscripts  of  "  Mandeville  "  in  various  languages,  —  more, 
probably,  than  of  any  other  work  save  the  gospels.  In  the 
prologue  of  the  English  version  the  author  calls  himself  John 
Maundeville  and  gives  an  outline  of  his  wide  travels  during 
thirty  years  ;  but  the  name  is  probably  a  "  blind,"  the  prologue 
more  or  less  spurious,  and  the  real  compiler  is  still  to  be 
discovered. 

The  modern  reader  may  spend  an  hour  or  two  very  pleas- 
antly in  this  old  wonderland.  On  its  literary  side  the  book 
is  remarkable,  though  a  translation,  as  being  the  first  prose 

1  In  its  English  form  the  alleged  Mandeville  describes  the  lands  and  customs  he  has 
seen,  and  brings  in  all  the  wonders  he  has  heard  about.  Many  things  he  has  seen  himself, 
he  tells  us,  and  these  are  certainly  true :  but  others  he  has  heard  in  his  travels,  and  of 
these  the  reader  must  judge  for  himself.  Then  he  incidentally  mentions  a  desert  where 
he  saw  devils  as  thick  as  grasshoppers.  As  for  things  that  he  has  been  told  by  devout 
travelers,  here  are  the  dog-faced  men,  and  birds  that  carry  off  elephants,  and  giants 
twenty-eight  feet  tall,  and  dangerous  women  who  have  bright  jewels  in  their  heads 
instead  of  eyes,  "  and  if  they  behold  any  man  in  wrath,  they  slay  him  with  a  look,  as 
doth  the  basilisk."  Here  also  are  the  folk  of  Ethiopia,  who  have  only  one  leg,  but  who 
hop  about  with  extraordinary  rapidity.  Their  one  foot  is  so  big  that,  when  they  lie  in 
the  sun,  they  raise  it  to  shade  their  bodies ;  in  rainy  weather  it  is  as  good  as  an  umbrella. 
At  the  close  of  this  interesting  book  of  travel,  which  is  a  guide  for  pilgrims,  the  author 
promises  to  all  those  who  say  a  prayer  for  him  a  share  in  whatever  heavenly  grace  he 
may  himself  obtain  for  all  his  holy  pilgrimages. 


86  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

work  in  modern  English  having  a  distinctly  literary  style  and 
flavor.  Otherwise  it  is  a  most  interesting  commentary  on  the 
general  culture  and  credulity  of  the  fourteenth  century. 

Summary  of  the  Age  of  Chaucer.  The  fourteenth  century  is  remarkable 
historically  for  the  decline  of  feudalism  (organized  by  the  Normans),  for 
the  growth  of  the  English  national  spirit  during  the  wars  with  France,  for  the 
prominence  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  for  the  growing  power  of  the  labor- 
ing classes,  who  had  heretofore  been  in  a  condition  hardly  above  that  of  slavery. 

The  age  produced  five  writers  of  note,  one  of  whom,  Geoffrey  Chaucer,  is 
one  of  the  greatest  of  English  writers.  His  poetry  is  remarkable  for  its  variety, 
its  story  interest,  and  its  wonderful  melody.  Chaucer's  work  and  Wyclif's 
translation  of  the  Bible  developed  the  Midland  dialect  into  the  national  lan- 
guage of  England. 

In  our  study  we  have  noted:  (i)  Chaucer,  his  life  and  work;  his  early  or 
French  period,  in  which  he  translated  "  The  Romance  of  the  Rose  "  and  wrote 
many  minor  poems ;  his  middle  or  Italian  period,  of  which  the  chief  poems 
are"Troilus  and  Cressida"  and  "The  Legend  of  Good  Women";  his  late 
or  English  period,  in  which  he  worked  at  his  masterpiece,  the  famous  Canter- 
bury Tales.  (2)  Langland,  the  poet  and  prophet  of  social  reforms.  His  chief 
work  is  Piers  Plowman.  (3)  Wyclif,  the  religious  reformer,  who  first  trans- 
lated the  gospels  into  English,  and  by  his  translation  fixed  a  common  standard 
of  English  speech.  (4)  Mandeville,  the  alleged  traveler,  who  represents  the  new 
English  interest  in  distant  lands  following  the  development  of  foreign  trade.  He 
is  famous  for  Mandeville's  Travels,  a  book  which  romances  about  the  wonders 
to  be  seen  abroad.  The  fifth  writer  of  the  age  is  Gower,  who  wrote  in  three 
languages,  French,  Latin,  and  English.  His  chief  English  work  is  the  Confessio 
Amantis,  a  long  poem  containing  one  hundred  and  twelve  tales.  Of  these  only 
the  "  Knight  Florent "  and  two  or  three  others  are  interesting  to  a  modern  reader. 

Selections  for  Reading.  Chaucer's  Prologue,  the  Knight's  Tale,  Nun's 
Priest's  Tale,  Prioress'  Tale,  Clerk's  Tale.  These  are  found,  more  or  less  com- 
plete, in  Standard  English  Classics,  King's  Classics,  Riverside  Literature 
Series,  etc.  Skeat's  school  edition  of  the  Prologue,  Knight's  Tale,  etc.,  is  espe- 
cially good,  and  includes  a  study  of  fourteenth-century  English.  Miscellane- 
ous poems  of  Chaucer  in  Manly's  English  Poetry  or  Ward's  English  Poets. 
Piers  Plowman,  in  King's  Classics.  Mandeville's  Travefe,  modernized,  in 
English  Classics,  and  in  Cassell's  National  Library. 

For  the  advanced  student,  and  as  a  study  of  language,  compare  selections 
from  Wyclif,  Chaucer's  prose  work,  Mandeville,  etc.,  in  Manly's  English  Prose, 
or  Morris  and  Skeat's  Specimens  of  Early  English,  or  Craik's  English  Prose 
Selections.  Selections  from  Wyclif's  Bible  in  English  Classics  Series. 

Bibliography.1  History.  Text-book,  Montgomery,  pp.  115-149,  or  Cheyney, 
pp.  186-263.  For  fuller  treatment,  Green,  ch.  5;  Traill;  Gardiner. 

1  For  titles  and  publishers  of  reference  works  see  General  Bibliography  at  the  end  of 
this  book. 


THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER  87 

Special  Works.  Hutton's  King  and  Baronage  (Oxford  Manuals) ;  Jusse- 
rand's  Wayfaring  Life  in  the  Fourteenth  Century  ;  Coulton's  Chaucer  and  his 
England ;  Pauli's  Pictures  from  Old  England ;  Wright's  History  of  Domestic 
Manners  and  Sentiments  in  England  during  the  Middle  Ages ;  Trevelyan's 
England  in  the  Age  of  Wyclif ;  Jenks's  In  the  Days  of  Chaucer;  Froissart's 
Chronicle,  in  Everyman's  Library;  the  same,  new  edition,  1895  (Macmillan) ; 
Lanier's  Boys'  Froissart  (i.e.  Froissart's  Chronicle  of  Historical  Events,  1325- 
1400);  Newbolt's  Stories  from  Froissart;  Bulfinch's  Age  of  Chivalry  may  be 
read  in  connection  with  this  and  the  preceding  periods. 

Literature.  General  Works.  Jusserand ;  Ten  Brink ;  Mitchell ;  Minto's 
Characteristics  of  English  Poets ;  Courthope's  History  of  English  Poetry. 

Chaucer,  (i)  Life  :  by  Lounsbury,  in  Studies  in  Chaucer,  vol.  I ;  by  Ward, 
in  English  Men  of  Letters  Series ;  Pollard's  Chaucer  Primer.  (2)  Aids  to 
study:  F.  J.  Snell's  The  Age  of  Chaucer;  Lounsbury's  Studies  in  Chaucer 
(3  vols.) ;  Root's  The  Poetry  of  Chaucer;  Lowell's  Essay,  in  My  Study  Win- 
dows;  Hammond's  Chaucer:  a  Biographical  Manual;  Hempl's  Chaucer's 
Pronunciation ;  Introductions  to  school  editions  of  Chaucer,  by  Skeat,  Lid- 
dell,  and  Mather.  (3)  Texts  and  selections  :  The  Oxford  Chaucer,  6  vols., 
edited  by  Skeat,  is  the  standard;  Skeat's  Student's  Chaucer;  The  Globe 
Chaucer  (Macmillan) ;  Works  of  Chaucer,  edited  by  Lounsbury  (Crowell) ; 
Pollard's  The  Canterbury  Tales,  Eversley  edition  ;  Skeat's  Selections  from 
Chaucer  (Clarendon  Press) ;  Chaucer's  Prologue,  and  various  tales,  in  Stand- 
ard English  Classics  (Ginn  and  Company),  and  in  other  school  series. 

Minor  Writers.  Morris  and  Skeat's  Specimens  of  Early  English  Prose. 
Jusserand's  Piers  Plowman  ;  Skeat's  Piers  Plowman  (text,  glossary  and  notes) ; 
Warren's  Piers  Plowman  in  Modern  Prose.  Arnold's  Wyclif's  Select  English 
Works ;  Sergeant's  Wyclif  (Heroes  of  the  Nation  Series) ;  Le  Bas's  Life  of 
John  Wyclif.  Travels  of  Sir  John  Mandeville  (modern  spelling),  in  Library  of 
English  Classics  ;  Macaulay's  Gower's  English  Works. 

Suggestive  Questions.  I.  What  are  the  chief  historical  events  of  the  four- 
teenth century  ?  What  social  movement  is  noticeable  ?  What  writers  reflect 
political  and  social  conditions  ? 

2.  Tell  briefly  the  story  of  Chaucer's  life.   What  foreign  influences  are  notice- 
able ?  Name  a  few  poems  illustrating  his  three  periods  of  work.   What  qualities 
have  you  noticed  in  his  poetry  ?    Why  is  he  called  our  first  national  poet  ? 

3.  Give  the  plan  of  the  Canterbiiry  Tales.     For  what  is  the  Prologue  re- 
markable ?    What  light  does  it  throw  upon  English  life  of  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury ?   Quote  or  read  some  passages  that  have  impressed  you.   Which  character 
do  you  like  best  ?    Are  any  of  the  characters  like  certain  men  and  women 
whom  you  know  ?    What  classes  of  society  are  introduced  ?    Is  Chaucer's  atti- 
tude sympathetic  or  merely  critical  ? 

4.  Tell  in  your  own  words  the  tale  you  like  best.    Which  tale  seems  truest 
to  life  as  you  know  it  ?    Mention  any  other  poets  who  tell  stories  in  verse. 

5.  Quote  or  read  passages  which  show  Chaucer's  keenness  of  observation, 
his  humor,  his  kindness  in  judgment,  his  delight  in  nature.    What  side  of 


88 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


human  nature  does  he  emphasize  ?  Make  a  little  comparison  between  Chaucer 
and  Shakespeare,  having  in  mind  (i)  the  characters  described  by  both  poets. 
(2)  their  knowledge  of  human  nature,  (3)  the  sources  of  their  plots,  (4)  the 
interest  of  their  works. 

6.  Describe  briefly  Piers  Plowman  and  its  author.    Why  is  the  poem  called 
"the  gospel  of  the  poor"?    What  message  does  it  contain  for  daily  labor? 
Does  it  apply  to  any  modern  conditions  ?    Note  any  resemblance  in  ideas 
between  Piers  Plowman  and  such  modern  works  as  Carlyle's  Past  and  Pres- 
ent, Kingsley's  Alton  Locke,  Morris's  Dream  of  John  Ball,  etc. 

7.  For  what  is  Wyclif  remarkable  in  literature  ?    How  did  his  work  affect 
our  language  ?    Note  resemblances  and  differences  between  Wyclif  and  the 
Puritans. 

8.  What  is  Mandevillt's  Travels  ?   What  light  does  it  throw  on  the  mental 
condition  of  the  age  ?    WThat  essential  difference  do  you  note  between  this 
book  and  Gulliver's  Travels  ? 


CHRONOLOGY,  FOURTEENTH  CENTURY 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


1327.  Edward  III 

1338.  Beginning  of  Hundred  Years' 

War  with  France 
1347.  Capture  of  Calais 
1348-1349.  Black  Death 


1373.  Winchester  College,  first  great 
public  school 

1377.  Richard  II.  Wyclif  and  the 
Lollards  begin  Reformation 
in  England 

1381.  Peasant  Rebellion.    Wat  Tyler 

1399.  Deposition  of  Richard  II. 

Henry  IV  chosen  by  Parliament 


i34o(?).  Birth  of  Chaucer 

1356.  Mandeville's  Travels 
1359.  Chaucer  in  French  War 
1360-1370.  Chaucer's  early  or  French 
period 

1 370-1 385.  Chaucer's  Middle  or  Italian 
period 

1362-1395.  Piers  Plowman 

1385-1400.  Canterbury  Tales 

1382.  First  complete  Bible  in  English 

1400.  Death  of  Chaucer 

(Dante's  Divina  Commedia,  c. 
1310;  Petrarch's  sonnets  and 
poems,  1325-1374;  Boccac- 
cio's tales,  c,  1350.) 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  (1400-1550) 
I.  HISTORY  OF  THE  PERIOD 

Political  Changes.  The  century  and  a  half  following  the  death  of 
Chaucer  (1400-1550)  is  the  most  volcanic  period  of  English  history. 
The  land  is  swept  by  vast  changes,  inseparable  from  the  rapid 
accumulation  of  national  power;  but  since  power  is  the  most  dan- 
gerous of  gifts  until  men  have  learned  to  control  it,  these  changes 
seem  at  first  to  have  no  specific  aim  or  direction.  Henry  V  —  whose 
erratic  yet  vigorous  life,  as  depicted  by  Shakespeare,  was  typical  of  the 
life  of  his  times  —  first  let  Europe  feel  the  might  of  the  new  national 
spirit.  To  divert  that  growing  and  unruly  spirit  from  rebellion  at 
home,  Henry  led  his  army  abroad,  in  the  apparently  impossible 
attempt  to  gain  for  himself  three  things  :  a  French  wife,  a  French 
revenue,  and  the  French  crown  itself.  The  battle  of  Agincourt  was 
fought  in  1415,  and  five  years  later,  by  the  Treaty  of  Troyes,  France 
acknowledged  his  right  to  all  his  outrageous  demands. 

The  uselessness  of  the  terrific  struggle  on  French  soil  is  shown  by 
the  rapidity  with  which  all  its  results  were  swept  away.  When  Henry 
died  in  1422,  leaving  his  son  heir  to  the  crowns  of  France  and 
England,  a  magnificent  recumbent  statue  with  head  of  pure  silver 
was  placed  in  Westminster  Abbey  to  commemorate  his  victories. 
The  silver  head  was  presently  stolen,  and  the  loss  is  typical  of  all 
that  he  had  struggled  for.  His  son,  Henry  VI,  was  but  the  shadow  of 
a  king,  a  puppet  in  the  hands  of  powerful  nobles,  who  seized  the 
power  of  England  and  turned  it  to  self-destruction.  Meanwhile  all 
his  foreign  possessions  were  won  back  by  the  French  under  the  magic 
leadership  of  Joan  of  Arc.  Cade's  Rebellion  (1450)  and  the  bloody 
Wars  of  the  Roses  (1455-1485)  are  names  to  show  how  the  energy 
of  England  was  violently  destroying  itself,  like  a  great  engine  that  has 
lost  its  balance  wheel.  The  frightful  reign  of  Richard  III  followed, 
which  had,  however,  this  redeeming  quality,  that  it  marked  the  end  of 
civil  wars  and  the  self-destruction  of  feudalism,  and  made  possible  a 
new  growth  of  English  national  sentiment  under  the  popular  Tudors. 

89 


90  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

In  the  long  reign  of  Henry  VIII  the  changes  are  less  violent,  but 
have  more  purpose  and  significance.  His  age  is  marked  by  a  steady 
increase  in  the  national  power  at  home  and  abroad,  by  the  entrance 
of  the  Reformation  "  by  a  side  door,"  and  by  the  final  separation  of 
England  from  all  ecclesiastical  bondage  in  Parliament's  famous  Act 
of  Supremacy.  In  previous  reigns  chivalry  and  the  old  feudal  sys- 
tem had  practically  been  banished;  now  monasticism,  the  third 
mediaeval  institution  with  its  mixed  evil  and  good,  received  its  death- 
blow in  the  wholesale  suppression  of  the  monasteries  and  the  re- 
moval of  abbots  from  the  House  of  Lords.  Notwithstanding  the  evil 
character  of  the  king  and  the  hypocrisy  of  proclaiming  such  a  crea- 
ture the  head  of  any  church  or  the  defender  of  any  faith,  we  acquiesce 


wij  Dag  rf^fupn  tfr  gerc  of  oiu  toft  <V\  utj  <£  !???*>  /  *nfc 
fy?  fi:8  jroof  tip  tftpte  of  hpngljattfcffr  tri>Anfc  enpign? 
ftfc  ttptj  o*B  of  fljage  afery  irf 


SPECIMEN  OF  CAXTON'S  PRINTING  IN  THE  YEAR  1486 

silently  in  Stubb's  declaration1  that  "the  world  owes  some  of  its 
greatest  debts  to  men  from  whose  memory  the  world  recoils." 

While  England  during  this  period  was  in  constant  political  strife, 
yet  rising  slowly,  like  the  spiral  flight  of  an  eagle,  to  heights  of 
national  greatness,  intellectually  it  moved  forward  with  bewildering 
rapidity.  Printing  was  brought  to  England  by  Caxton  (c.  1476),  and 
for  the  first  time  in  history  it  was  possible  for  a  book  or  an  idea  to 
reach  the  whole  nation.  Schools  and  universities  were  established  in 
place  of  the  old  monasteries  ;  Greek  ideas  and  Greek  culture  came 
to  England  in  the  Renaissance,  and  man's  spiritual  freedom  was 
proclaimed  in  the  Reformation.  The  great  names  of  the  period  are 
numerous  and  significant,  but  literature  is  strangely  silent.  Proba- 
bly the  very  turmoil  of  the  age  prevented  any  literary  development, 
for  literature  is  one  of  the  arts  of  peace  ;  it  requires  quiet  and 
meditation  rather  than  activity,  and  the  stirring  life  of  the  Renais- 
sance had  first  to  be  lived  before  it  could  express  itself  in  the  new 
literature  of  the  Elizabethan  period. 

1  Constitutional  History  of  England. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  91 

The  Revival  of  Learning.  The  Revival  of  Learning  denotes,  in  its 
broadest  sense,  that  gradual  enlightenment  of  the  human  mind  after 
the  darkness  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  names  Renaissance  and 
Humanism,  which  are  often  applied  to  the  same  movement,  have 
properly  a  narrower  significance.  The  term  Renaissance,  though 
used  by  many  writers  "  to  denote  the  whole  transition  from  the 
Middle  Ages  to  the  modern  world,"  l  is  more  correctly  applied  to 
the  revival  of  art  resulting  from  the  discovery  and  imitation  of 
classic  models  in  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries.  Humanism 
applies  to  the  revival  of  classic  literature,  and  was  so  called  by  its 
leaders,  following  the  example  of  Petrarch,  because  they  held  that 
the  study  of  the  classics,  literce  humaniores, —  i.e.  the  "  more  human 
writings,"  rather  than  the  old  theology,  —  was  the  best  means  of 
promoting  the  largest  human  interests.  We  use  the  term  Revival  of 
Learning  to  cover  the  whole  movement,  whose  essence  was,  accord- 
ing to  Lamartine,  that  "  man  discovered  himself  and  the  universe," 
and,  according  to  Taine,  that  man,  so  long  blinded,  "  had  suddenly 
opened  his  eyes  and  seen." 

We  shall  understand  this  better  if  we  remember  that  in  the  Middle 
Ages  man's  whole  world  consisted  of  the  narrow  Mediterranean  and 
the  nations  that  clustered  about  it ;  and  that  this  little 
world  seemed  bounded  by  impassable  barriers,  as  if  God 
had  said  to  their  sailors,  "  Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  but  no  farther." 
Man's  mind  also  was  bounded  by  the  same  narrow  lines.  His  culture 
as  measured  by  the  great  deductive  system  of  Scholasticism  con- 
sisted not  in  discovery,  but  rather  in  accepting  certain  principles  and 
traditions  established  by  divine  and  ecclesiastical  authority  as  the 
basis  of  all  truth.  These  were  his  Pillars  of  Hercules,  his  mental  and 
spiritual  bounds  that  he  must  not  pass,  and  within  these,  like  a  child 
playing  with  lettered  blocks,  he  proceeded  to  build  his  intellectual 
system.  Only  as  we  remember  their  limitations  can  we  appreciate 
the  heroism  of  these  toilers  of  the  Middle  Ages,  giants  in  intellect, 
yet  playing  with  children's  toys ;  ignorant  of  the  laws  and  forces 
of  the  universe,  while  debating  the  essence  and  locomotion  of  angels ; 
eager  to  learn,  yet  forbidden  to  enter  fresh  fields  in  the  right  of 
free  exploration  and  the  joy  of  individual  discovery. 

The  Revival  stirred  these  men  as  the  voyages  of  Da  Gama  and 
Columbus  stirred  the  mariners  of  the  Mediterranean.  First  came 
the  sciences  and  inventions  of  the  Arabs,  making  their  way  slowly 

1  Symonds,  Revival  of  Learning. 


92  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

against  the  prejudice  of  the  authorities,  and  opening  men's  eyes  to 
the  unexplored  realms  of  nature.  Then  came  the  flood  of  Greek 
literature  which  the  new  art  of  printing  carried  swiftly  to  every 
school  in  Europe,  revealing  a  new  world  of  poetry  and  philosophy. 
Scholars  flocked  to  the  universities,  as  adventurers  to  the  new  world 
of  America,  and  there  the  old  authority  received  a  deathblow.  Truth 
only  was  authority ;  to  search  for  truth  everywhere,  as  men  sought 
for  new  lands  and  gold  and  the  fountain  of  youth,  —  that  was  the 
new  spirit  which  awoke  in  Europe  with  the  Revival  of  Learning. 

II.    LITERATURE  OF  THE  REVIVAL 

The  hundred  and  fifty  years  of  the  Revival  period  are  sin- 
gularly destitute  of  good  literature.  Men's  minds  were  too 
much  occupied  with  religious  and  political  changes  and  with 
the  rapid  enlargement  of  the  mental  horizon  to  find  time  for 
that  peace  and  leisure  which  are  essential  for  literary  results. 
Perhaps,  also,  the  floods  of  newly  discovered  classics,  which 
occupied  scholars  and  the  new  printing  presses  alike,  were  by 
their  very  power  and  abundance  a  discouragement  of  native 
talent.  Roger  Ascham  (1515-1568)^  famous  classical  scholar, 
who  published  a  book  called  Toxophilus  (School  of  Shooting) 
in  1545,  expresses  in  his  preface,  or  "apology,"  a  very  wide- 
spread dissatisfaction  over  the  neglect  of  native  literature 
when  he  says,  "And  as  for  ye  Latin  or  greke  tongue,  every 
thing  is  so  excellently  done  in  them,  that  none  can  do  better  : 
In  the  Englysh  tonge  contrary,  every  thinge  in  a  maner  so 
meanly,  both  for  the  matter  and  handelynge,  that  no  man  can 
do  worse." 

On  the  Continent,  also,  this  new  interest  in  the  classics 
served  to  check  the  growth  of  native  literatures.  In  Italy 
especially,  for  a  full  century  after  the  brilliant  age  of  Dante 
and  Petrarch,  no  great  literature  was  produced,  and  the  Italian 
language  itself  seemed  to  go  backward.1  The  truth  is  that 

1  Sismondi  attributes  this  to  two  causes :  first,  the  lack  of  general  culture ;  and  second, 
the  absorption  of  the  schools  in  the  new  study  of  antiquity.  See  Literature  of  the  South 
j>/  Europe,  II,  400  ff. 


"V 

So 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  93 

these  great  writers  were,  like  Chaucer,  far  in  advance  of  their 
age,  and  that  the  mediaeval  mind  was  too  narrow,  too  scantily 
furnished  with  ideas  to  produce  a  varied  literature.  The  fif- 
teenth century  was  an  age  of  preparation,  of  learning  the  be- 
ginnings of  science,  and  of  getting  acquainted  with  the  great 
ideals, — the  stern  law,  the  profound  philosophy,  the  suggestive 
mythology,  and  the  noble  poetry  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans, 
the  mind  was  furnished  with  ideas  for  a  new  literature. 

With  the  exception  of  Malory's  Morte  d'Arthur  (which  is 
still  mediaeval  in  spirit)  the  student  will  find  little  of  interest 
in  the  literature  of  this  period.  We  give  here  a  brief  summary 
of  the  men  and  the  books  most  "worthy  of  remembrance"; 
but  for  the  real  literature  of  the  Renaissance  one  must  go 
forward  a  century  and  a  half  to  the  age  of  Elizabeth. 

The  two  greatest  books  which  appeared  in  England  during 
this  period  are  undoubtedly  Erasmus's1  Praise  of  Folly  (Enco- 
Praise  of  mium  Moricz)  and  More's  Utopia,  the  famous  "  King- 
Folly  dom  of  Nowhere."  Both  were  written  in  Latin,  but 
were  speedily  translated  into  all  European  languages.  The 
Praise  of  Folly  is  like  a  song  of  victory  for  the  New  Learning, 
which  had  driven  away  vice,  ignorance,  and  superstition,  the 
three  foes  of  humanity.  It  was  published  in  1511  after  the 
accession  of  Henry  VIII.  Folly  is  represented  as  donning  cap 
and  bells  and  mounting  a  pulpit,  where  the  vice  and  cruelty  of 
kings,  the  selfishness  and  ignorance  of  the  clergy,  and  the 
foolish  standards  of  education  are  satirized  without  mercy. 

More's  Utopia,  published  in  1516,  is  a  powerful  and  origi- 
nal study  of  social  conditions,  unlike  anything  which  had  ever 
appeared  in  any  literature.2  In  our  own  day  we  have  seen  its 
influence  in  Bellamy's  Looking  Backward,  an  enormously 

1  Erasmus,  the  greatest  scholar  of  the  Renaissance,  was  not  an  Englishman,  but 
seems  to  belong  to  every  nation.    He  was  born  at  Rotterdam  (c.  1466),  but  lived  the 
greater  part  of  his  life  in  France,  Switzerland,  England,  and  Italy.    His  Encomium 
Morice  was  sketched  on  a  journey  from  Italy  (1509)  and  written  while  he  was  the  guest 
of  Sir  Thomas  More  in  London. 

2  Unless,  perchance,  the  reader  finds  some  points  of  resemblance  in  Plato's  **  Republic." 


94  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

successful  book,  which  recently  set  people  to  thinking  of  the 
unnecessary  cruelty  of  modern  social  conditions.  More  learns 
from  a  sailor,  one  of  Amerigo  Vespucci's  compan- 
ions, of  a  wonderful  Kingdom  of  Nowhere,  in  which 
all  questions  of  labor,  government,  society,  and  religion  have 
been  easily  settled  by  simple  justice  and  common  sense.  In 
this  Utopia  we  find  for  the  first  time,  as  the  foundations  of 
civilized  society,  the  three  great  words,  Liberty,  Fraternity, 
Equality,  which  retained  their  inspiration  through  all  the  vio- 
lence of  the  French  Revolution  and  which  are  still  the  unreal- 
ized ideal  of  every  free  government.  As  he  hears  of  this 
wonderful  country  More  wonders  why,  after  fifteen  centuries 
of  Christianity,  his  own  land  is  so  little  civilized ;  and  as  we 
read  the  book  to-day  we  ask  ourselves  the  same  question. 
The  splendid  dream  is  still  far  from  being  realized ;  yet  it 
seems  as  if  any  nation  could  become  Utopia  in  a  single  gen- 
eration, so  simple  and  just  are  the  requirements. 

Greater  than  either  of  these  books,  in  its  influence  upon 
the  common  people,  is  Tyndale's  translation  of  the  New 
Testament  (1525),  which  fixed  a  standard  of  good  English,  and 
T  ndaie's  at  t^ie  same  tmie  brought  that  standard  not  only 
New  Testa-  to  scholars  but  to  the  homes  of  the  common  people. 
Tyndale  made  his  translation  from  the  original 
Greek,  and  later  translated  parts  of  the  Old  Testament  from 
the  Hebrew.  Much  of  Tyndale's  work  was  included  in  Cran- 
mer's  Bible,  known  also  as  the  Great  Bible,  in  1539,  and  was 
read  in  every  parish  church  in  England.  It  was  the  founda- 
tion for  the  Authorized  Version,  which  appeared  nearly  a 
century  later  and  became  the  standard  for  the  whole  English- 
speaking  race. 

Wyatt  and  Surrey.  In  1557  appeared  probably  the  first 
printed  collection  of  miscellaneous  English  poems,  known  as 
ToMel's  Miscellany.  It  contained  the  work  of  the  so-called 
courtly  makers,  or  poets,  which  had  hitherto  circulated  in 
manuscript  form  for  the  benefit  of  the  court.  About  half  of 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  95 

these  poems  were  the  work  of  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt  (1503?- 
1542)  and  of  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey  (1517  P-I547). 
Both  together  wrote  amorous  sonnets  modeled  after  the  Ital- 
ians, introducing  a  new  verse  form  which,  although  very  dif- 
ficult, has  been  a  favorite  ever  since  with  our  English  poets.1 
Surrey  is  noted,  not  for  any  especial  worth  or  originality  of 
his  own  poems,  but  rather  for  his  translation  of  two  books 
of  Virgil  "  in  strange  meter."  The  strange  meter  was  the  blank 
verse,  which  had  never  before  appeared  in  English.  The  chief 
literary  work  of  these  two  men,  therefore,  is  to  introduce  the 
sonnet  and  the  blank  verse,  —  one  the  most  dainty,  the  other 
the  most  flexible  and  characteristic  form  of  English  poetry,  — 
which  in  the  hands  of  Shakespeare  and  Milton  were  used  to 
make  the  world's  masterpieces. 

Malory's  Morte  d' Arthur.  The  greatest  English  work  of 
this  period,  measured  by  its  effect  on  subsequent  literature, 
is  undoubtedly  the  Morte  d?  Arthur,  a  collection  of  the  Arthu- 
rian romances  told  in  simple  and  vivid  prose.  Of  Sir  Thomas 
Malory,  the  author,  Caxton  2  in  his  introduction  says  that  he 
was  a  knight,  and  completed  his  work  in  1470,  fifteen  years 
before  Caxton  printed  it.  The  record  adds  that  "  he  was  the 
servant  of  Jesu  both  by  day  and  night."  Beyond  that  we 
know  little3  except  what  may  be  inferred  from  the  splendid 
work  itself. 

Malory  groups  the  legends  about  the  central  idea  of  the 
search  for  the  Holy  Grail.  Though  many  of  the  stories,  like 
Tristram  and  Isolde,  are  purely  pagan,  Malory  treats  them 
all  in  such  a  way  as  to  preserve  the  whole  spirit  of  mediaeval 
Christianity  as  it  has  been  preserved  in  no  other  work.  It 

1  See  Wordsworth's  sonnet,  On  the  Sonnet.    For  a  detailed  study  of  this  most  perfect 
verse  form,  see  Tomlinson's  The  Sonnet,  Its  Origin,  Structure,  and  Place  in  Poetry. 

2  William  Caxton  (c.  1422-1491)  was  the  first  English  printer.    He  learned  the  art 
abroad,  probably  at  Cologne  or  Bruges,  and  about  the  year  1476  set  up  the  first  wooden 
printing  press  in  England.    His  influence  in  fixing  a  national  language  to  supersede  the 
various  dialects,  and  in  preparing  the  way  for  the  literary  renaissance  of  the  Elizabethan 
age,  is  beyond  calculation. 

8  Malory  has,  in  our  own  day,  been  identified  with  an  English  country  gentlemaa 
and  soldier,  who  was  member  of  Parliament  for  Warwickshire  in  1445. 


96  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

was  to  Malory  rather  than  to  Layamon  or  to  the  early  French 
writers  that  Shakespeare  and  his  contemporaries  turned  for 
their  material ;  and  in  our  own  age  he  has  supplied  Tennyson 
and  Matthew  Arnold  and  Swinburne  and  Morris  with  the 
inspiration  for  the  "Idylls  of  the  King"  and  the  "Death  of 
Tristram  "  and  the  other  exquisite  poems  which  center  about 
Arthur  and  the  knights  of  his  Round  Table. 

In  subject-matter  the  book  belongs  to  the  mediaeval  age ; 
but  Malory  himself,  with  his  desire  to  preserve  the  literary 
monuments  of  the  past,  belongs  to  the  Renaissance ;  and  he 
deserves  our  lasting  gratitude  for  attempting  to  preserve  the 
legends  and  poetry  of  Britain  at  a  time  when  scholars  were 
chiefly  busy  with  the  classics  of  Greece  and  Rome.  As  the 
Arthurian  legends  are  one  of  the  great  recurring  motives  of 
English  literature,  Malory's  work  should  be  better  known. 
His  stories  may  be  and  should  be  told  to  every  child  as  part 
of  his  literary  inheritance.  Then  Malory  may  be  read  for  his 
style  and  his  English  prose  and  his  expression  of  the  mediae- 
val spirit.  And  then  the  stories  may  be  read  again,  in  Tenny- 
son's "Idylls,"  to  show  how  those  exquisite  old  fancies  appeal 
to  the  minds  of  our  modern  poets. 

Summary  of  the  Revival  of  Learning  Period.  This  transition  period  is  at 
first  one  of  decline  from  the  Age  of  Chaucer,  and  then  of  intellectual  prepara- 
tion for  the  Age  of  Elizabeth.  For  a  century  and  a  half  after  Chaucer  not  a 
single  great  English  work  appeared,  and  the  general  standard  of  literature  was 
very  low.  There  are  three  chief  causes  to  account  for  this:  (i)  the  long  war 
with  France  and  the  civil  Wars  of  the  Roses  distracted  attention  from  books 
and  poetry,  and  destroyed  or  ruined  many  noble  English  families  who  had 
been  friends  and  patrons  of  literature ;  (2)  the  Reformation  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  period  filled  men's  minds  with  religious  questions ;  (3)  the  Revival  of 
Learning  set  scholars  and  literary  men  to  an  eager  study  of  the  classics,  rather 
than  to  the  creation  of  native  literature.  Historically  the  age  is  noticeable  for 
its  intellectual  progress,  for  the  introduction  of  printing,  for  the  discovery  of 
America,  for  the  beginning  of  the  Reformation,  and  for  the  growth  of  political 
power  among  the  common  people. 

In  our  study  we  have  noted:  (i)  the  Revival  of  Learning,  what  it  was, 
and  the  significance  of  the  terms  Humanism  and  Renaissance ;  (2)  three  in- 
fluential literary  works,  —  Erasmus's  Praise  of  Folly,  More's  Utopia,  and  Tyn- 
dale's  translation  of  the  New  Testament;  (3)  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  and  the 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  97 

so-called  courtly  makers  or  poets;  (4)  Malory's  Morte  d"1  Arthur,  a  collection 
of  the  Arthurian  legends  in  English  prose.  The  Miracle  and  Mystery  Plays 
were  the  most  popular  form  of  entertainment  in  this  age  ;  but  we  have  reserved 
them  for  special  study  in  connection  with  the  Rise  of  the  Drama,  in  the 
following  chapter. 

Selections  for  Reading.  Malory's  Morte  d'Arthur,  selections,  in  Athenaeum 
Press  Series,  etc.  (It  is  interesting  to  read  Tennyson's  Passing  of  Arthur  in 
connection  with  Malory's  account.)  Utopia,  in  Arber's  Reprints,  Temple 
Classics,  King's  Classics,  etc.  Selections  from  Wyatt,  Surrey,  etc.,  in  Manly's 
English  Poetry  or  Ward's  English  Poets;  Tottel's  Miscellany,  in  Arber's 
Reprints.  Morris  and  Skeat's  Specimens  of  Early  English,  vol.  3,  has  good 
selections  from  this  period. 

Bibliography.1  History.  Text-book,  Montgomery,  pp.  150-208,  or  Cheyney, 
pp.  264-328.  Greene,  ch.  6 ;  Traill ;  Gardiner ;  Froude  ;  etc. 

Special  Works.  Denton's  England  in  the  Fifteenth  Century ;  Flower's  The 
Century  of  Sir  Thomas  More  ;  The  Household  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  in  King's 
Classics  ;  Green's  Town  Life  in  the  Fifteenth  Century ;  Field's  Introduction  to 
the  Study  of  the  Renaissance  ;  Einstein's  The  Italian  Renaissance  in  England; 
Seebohm's  The  Oxford  Reformers  (Erasmus,  More,  etc.). 

Literature.  General  Works.  Jusserand;  Ten  Brink;  Minto's  Characteris- 
tics of  English  Poets. 

Special  Works.  Saintsbury's  Elizabethan  Literature ;  Malory's  Morte 
d'Arthur,  edited  by  Sommer ;  the  same  by  Gollancz  (Temple  Classics) ; 
Lanier's  The  Boy's  King  Arthur;  More's  Utopia,  in  Temple  Classics,  King's 
Classics,  etc. ;  Roper's  Life  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  in  King's  Classics,  Temple 
Classics,  etc. ;  Ascham's  Schoolmaster,  in  Arber's  English  Reprints ;  Poems 
of  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  in  English  Reprints  and  Bell's  Aldine  Poets ;  Simonds's 
Sir  Thomas  Wyatt  and  His  Poems;  Allen's  Selections  from  Erasmus;  Jusse- 
rand's  Romance  of  a  King's  Life  (James  I  of  Scotland)  contains  extracts  and 
an  admirable  criticism  of  the  King's  Quair. 

Suggestive  Questions,  i.  The  fifteenth  century  in  English  literature  is 
sometimes  called  "  the  age  of  arrest."  Can  you  explain  why  ?  What  causes 
account  for  the  lack  of  great  literature  in  this  period  ?  Why  should  the  ruin 
of  noble  families  at  this  time  seriously  affect  our  literature  ?  Can  you  recall 
anything  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  period  to  justify  your  opinion  ? 

2.  What  is  meant  by  Humanism  ?    What  was  the  first  effect  of  the  study  of 
Greek  and  Latin  classics  upon  our  literature  ?    What  excellent  literary  pur- 
poses did  the  classics  serve  in  later  periods  ? 

3.  What  are  the  chief  benefits  to  literature  of  the  discovery  of  printing  ? 
What  effect  on  civilization  has  the  multiplication  of  books  ? 

4.  Describe   More's    Utopia.    Do  you  know  any  modern  books   like  it  ? 
Why  should  any  impractical  scheme  of  progress  be  still  called  Utopian  ? 

1  For  titles  and  publishers  of  general  works  see  General  Bibliography  at  the  end  of 
this  book. 


98 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


5.  What  work  of  this  period  had  the  greatest  effect  on  the  English  lan- 
guage ?    Explain  why. 

6.  What  was  the  chief  literary  influence  exerted  by  Wyatt  and  Surrey  ? 
Do  you  know  any  later  poets  who  made  use  of  the  verse  forms  which  they 
introduced  ? 

7.  Which  of  Malory's  stories  do  you  like  best  ?    Where  did  these  stories 
originate  ?    Have  they  any  historical  foundation  ?    What  two  great  elements 
did  Malory  combine  in  his  work  ?    What  is  the  importance  of  his  book  to  later 
English  literature  ?    Compare  Tennyson's  "  Idylls  of  the  King  "  and  Malory's 
stories  with  regard  to  material,  expression,  and  interest.  Note  the  marked  resem- 
blances and  differences  between  the  Morte  d*  Arthur  and  the  Nibelungen  Lied. 

CHRONOLOGY 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


1413.  Henry  V 

1415.  Battle  of  Agincourt 

1422.  Henry  VI 

1428.  Siege  of  Orleans.    Joan  of  Arc 

1453.  End  of  Hundred  Years'  War 

1455-1485.  Wars  of  Roses 

1461.  Edward  IV 

1483.  Richard  III 

1485.  Henry  VII 

1492.  Columbus  discovers  America 
1509.  Henry  VIII 


1534.  Act  of  Supremacy.    The  Refor- 
mation accomplished 


1547.  Edward  VI 
1553.  Mary 
1558.  Elizabeth 


1470.  Malory's  Morte  d' Arthur 
I474(<r.).  Caxton,  at  Bruges,  prints  the 

first   book    in   English,  the 

Recuyell  of  the  Historyes  of 

Troye 

1477.  First  book  printed  in  England 
1485.  Morte    d'Arthur   printed   by 

Caxton 
1499.    Colet,    Erasmus,   and   More 

bring  the  New  Learning  to 

Oxford 

1509.  Erasmus's  Praise  of  Folly 
1516.  More's  Utopia 
1525.  Tyndale's  New  Testament 
I53°(^-)-   Introduction  of  the  sonnet 

and  blank    verse    by    Wyatt 

and  Surrey 
1539.  The  Great  Bible 

1557.  Tottel's  Miscellany 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  (1550-1620) 
I.  HISTORY  OF  THE  PERIOD 

Political  Summary.  In  the  Age  of  Elizabeth  all  doubt  seems  to 
vanish  from  English  history.  After  the  reigns  of  Edward  and  Mary, 
with  defeat  and  humiliation  abroad  and  persecutions  and  rebellion 
at  home,  the  accession  of  a  popular  sovereign  was  like  the  sunrise 
after  a  long  night,  and,  in  Milton's  words,  we  suddenly  see  England, 
"  a  noble  and  puissant  nation,  rousing  herself,  like  a  strong  man  after 
sleep,  and  shaking  her  invincible  locks."  With  the  queen's  character, 
a  strange  mingling  of  frivolity  and  strength  which  reminds  one  of 
that  iron  image  with  feet  of  clay,  we  have  nothing  whatever  to  do. 
It  is  the  national  life  that  concerns  the  literary  student,  since  even  a 
beginner  must  notice  that  any  great  development  of  the  national 
life  is  invariably  associated  with  a  development  of  the  national  litera- 
ture. It  is  enough  for  our  purpose,  therefore,  to  point  out  two  facts  : 
that  Elizabeth,  with  all  her  vanity  and  inconsistency,  steadily  loved 
England  and  England's  greatness;  and  that  she  inspired  all  her 
people  with  the  unbounded  patriotism  which  exults  in  Shakespeare, 
and  with  the  personal  devotion  which  finds  a  voice  in  the  Faery 
Queen.  Under  her  administration  the  English  national  life  pro- 
gressed by  gigantic  leaps  rather  than  by  slow  historical  process,  and 
English  literature  reached  the  very  highest  point  of  its  development. 
It  is  possible  to  indicate  only  a  few  general  characteristics  of  this 
great  age  which  had  a  direct  bearing  upon  its  literature. 

Characteristics  of  the  Elizabethan  Age.  The  most  characteristic 
feature  of  the  age  was  the  comparative  religious  tolerance,  which 
Religious  was  due  largely  to  the  queen's  influence.  The  fright- 
Toleration  fui  excesses  of  the  religious  war  known  as  the  Thirty 
Years'  War  on  the  Continent  found  no  parallel  in  England.  Upon 
her  accession  Elizabeth  found  the  whole  kingdom  divided  against 
itself ;  the  North  was  largely  Catholic,  while  the  southern  counties 
were  as  strongly  Protestant.  Scotland  had  followed  the  Reforma- 
tion in  its  own  intense  way,  while  Ireland  remained  true  to  its  old 

99 


100  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

religious  traditions,  and  both  countries  were  openly  rebellious.  The 
court,  made  up  of  both  parties,  witnessed  the  rival  intrigues  of 
those  who  sought  to  gain  the  royal  favor.  It  was  due  partly  to  the 
intense  absorption  of  men's  minds  in  religious  questions  that  the 
preceding  century,  though  an  age  of  advancing  learning,  produced 
scarcely  any  literature  worthy  of  the  name.  Elizabeth  favored  both 
religious  parties,  and  presently  the  world  saw  with  amazement 
Catholics  and  Protestants  acting  together  as  trusted  counselors  of  a 
great  sovereign.  The  defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armada  established  the 
Reformation  as  a  fact  in  England,  and  at  the  same  time  united  all 
Englishmen  in  a  magnificent  national  enthusiasm.  For  the  first  time 
since  the  Reformation  began,  the  fundamental  question  of  religious 
toleration  seemed  to  be  settled,  and  the  mind  of  man,  freed  from 
religious  fears  and  persecutions,  turned  with  a  great  creative  impulse 
to  other  forms  of  activity.  It  is  partly  from  this  new  freedom  of  the 
mind  that  the  Age  of  Elizabeth  received  its  great  literary  stimulus. 

2.  It  was  an  age  of  comparative  social  contentment,  in  strong 
contrast  with  the  days  of  Langland.    The  rapid  increase  of  manu- 
Social  Con-      facturing   towns   gave    employment   to    thousands   who 
tentment        had  before  been  idle  and  discontented.    Increasing  trade 
brought  enormous  wealth  to  England,  and  this  wealth  was  shared  to 
this  extent,  at  least,  that  for  the  first  time  some  systematic  care  for 
the  needy  was  attempted.   Parishes  were  made  responsible  for  their 
own  poor,  and  the  wealthy  were  taxed  to  support  them  or  give  them 
employment.  The  increase  of  wealth,  the  improvement  in  living,  the 
opportunities  for  labor,  the  new  social  content,  —  these  also  are  fac- 
tors which  help  to  account  for  the  new  literary  activity. 

3.  It  is  an  age  of  dreams,  of  adventure,  of  unbounded  enthusiasm 
springing  from  the  new  lands  of  fabulous  riches  revealed  by  English 

explorers.  Drake  sails  around  the  world,  shaping  the 
mighty  course  which  English  colonizers  shall  follow 
through  the  centuries ;  and  presently  the  young  philosopher  Bacon 
is  saying  confidently,  "I  have  taken  all  knowledge  for  my  prov- 
ince." The  mind  must  search  farther  than  the  eye ;  with  new,  rich 
lands  opened  to  the  sight,  the  imagination  must  create  new  forms 
to  people  the  new  worlds.  Hakluyt's  famous  Collection  of  Voyages, 
and  Purchas,  His  Pilgrimage,  were  even  more  stimulating  to  the 
English  imagination  than  to  the  English  acquisitiveness.  While  her 
explorers  search  the  new  world  for  the  Fountain  of  Youth,  her 
poets  are  creating  literary  works  that  are  young  forever.  Marston 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  tdi 

writes 1 :  "  Why,  man,  all  their  dripping  pans  are  pure  gold.  The  prison- 
ers they  take  are  fettered  in  gold ;  and  as  for  rubies  and  diamonds, 
they  goe  forth  on  holydayes  and  gather  'hem  by  the  seashore  to  hang 
on  their  children's  coates."  This  comes  nearer  to  being  a  description 
of  Shakespeare's  poetry  than  of  the  Indians  in  Virginia.  Prospero,  in 
The  Tempest,  with  his  control  over  the  mighty  powers  and  harmo- 
nies of  nature,  is  only  the  literary  dream  of  that  science  which  had 
just  begun  to  grapple  with  the  forces  of  the  universe.  Cabot,  Drake, 
Frobisher,  Gilbert,  Raleigh,  Willoughby,  Hawkins,  —  a  score  of 
explorers  reveal  a  new  earth  to  men's  eyes,  and  instantly  literature 
creates  a  new  heaven  to  match  it.  So  dreams  and  deeds  increase 
side  by  side,  and  the  dream  is  ever  greater  than  the  deed.  That  is 
the  meaning  of  literature. 

4.  To  sum  up,  the  Age  of  Elizabeth  was  a  time  of  intellectual 
liberty,  of  growing  intelligence  and  comfort  among  all  classes,  of 
unbounded  patriotism,  and  of  peace  at  home  and  abroad.  For  a 
parallel  we  must  go  back  to  the  Age  of  Pericles  in  Athens,  or  of 
Augustus  in  Rome,  or  go  forward  a  little  to  the  magnifi- 
cent court  of  Louis  XIV,  when  Corneille,  Racine,  and 
Moliere  brought  the  drama  in  France  to  the  point  where  Marlowe, 
Shakespeare,  and  Jonson  had  left  it  in  England  half  a  century  earlier. 
Such  an  age  of  great  thought  and  great  action,  appealing  to  the  eyes 
as  well  as  to  the  imagination  and  intellect,  finds  but  one  adequate 
literary  expression ;  neither  poetry  nor  the  story  can  express  the 
whole  man,  —  his  thought,  feeling,  action,  and  the  resulting  character ; 
hence  in  the  Age  of  Elizabeth  literature  turned  instinctively  to  the 
drama  and  brought  it  rapidly  to  the  highest  stage  of  its  development. 

II.    THE  NON-DRAMATIC   POETS   OF  THE 
ELIZABETHAN  AGE 

EDMUND  SPENSER  (1552-1599) 
(CvdcKe) 

"  Piers,  I  have  pip^d  erst  so  long  with  pain 
That  all  mine  oaten  reeds  been  rent  and  wore, 
And  my  poor  Muse  hath  spent  her  spared  store, 
Yet  little  good  hath  got,  and  much  less  gain. 
Such  pleasaunce  makes  the  grasshopper  so  poor, 
And  Hgge  so  layd2  when  winter  doth  her  strain. 

1  Eastward  Ho!  a  play  given  in  Blackfriars  Theater  about  1603.    The  play  vras 
written  by  Marston  and  two  collaborators.  2  Lie  so  faint. 


103 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


(Piers) 


The  dapper  ditties  that  I  wont  devise, 
To  feed  youth's  fancy,  and  the  flocking  fry 
Delighten  much  —  what  I  the  bet  forthy  ? 
They  han  the  pleasure,  I  a  slender  prize : 
I  beat  the  bush,  the  birds  to  them  do  fly : 
What  good  thereof  to  Cuddie  can  arise  ? 


Cuddie,  the  praise  is  better  than  the  price, 

The  glory  eke  much  greater  than  the  gain  :  .  .  ." 

Shepherd"1  s  Calendar,  October 

In  these  words,  with  their  sorrowful  suggestion  of  Deor, 
Spenser  reveals  his  own  heart,  unconsciously  perhaps,  as  no 
biographer  could  possibly  do.  His  life  and  work  seem  to  cen- 
ter about  three  great  influences, 
summed  up  in  three  names : 
Cambridge,  where  he  grew  ac- 
quainted with  the  classics  and 
the  Italian  poets ;  London,  where 
he  experienced  the  glamour  and 
the  disappointment  of  court  life  ; 
and  Ireland,  which  steeped  him 
in  the  beauty  and  imagery  of  old 
Celtic  poetry  and  first  gave  him 
leisure  to  write  his  masterpiece. 

Life.  Of  Spenser's  early  life  and 
parentage  we  know  little,  except 
that  he  was  born  in  East  Smithfield,  near  the  Tower  of  London,  and 
was  poor.  His  education  began  at  the  Merchant  Tailors'  School  in 
London  and  was  continued  in  Cambridge,  where  as  a  poor  sizar  and 
fag  for  wealthy  students  he  earned  a  scant  living.  Here  in  the  glori- 
ous world  that  only  a  poor  scholar  knows  how  to  create  for  himself 
he  read  the  classics,  made  acquaintance  with  the  great  Italian  poets, 
and  wrote  numberless  little  poems  of  his  own.  Though  Chaucer 
was  his  beloved  master,  his  ambition  was  not  to  rival  the  Canterbury 
Tafes,  but  rather  to  express  the  dream  of  English  chivalry,  much  as 
Ariosto  had  done  for  Italy  in  Orlando  Furioso. 

After  leaving  Cambridge   (1576)  Spenser  went  to  the  north  of 
England,  on  some  unknown  work  or  quest.   Here  his  chief  occupation 


EDMUND  SPENSER 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  103 

was  to  fall  in  love  and  to  record  his  melancholy  over  the  lost 
Rosalind  in  the  Shepherd's  Calendar.  Upon  his  friend  Harvey's 
advice  he  came  to  London,  bringing  his  poems ;  and  here  he  met 
Leicester,  then  at  the  height  of  royal  favor,  and  the  latter  took  him 
to  live  at  Leicester  House.  Here  he  finished  the  Shepherd's  Calen- 
dar, and  here  he  met  Sidney  and  all  the  queen's  favorites.  The  court 
was  full  of  intrigues,  lying  and  flattery,  and  Spenser's  opinion  of  his 
own  uncomfortable  position  is  best  expressed  in  a  few  lines  from 
"  Mother  Hubbard's  Tale  "  : 

Full  little  knowest  thou,  that  has  not  tried, 
What  hell  it  is,  in  suing  long  to  bide : 
To  lose  good  days,  that  might  be  better  spent ; 
To  waste  long  nights  in  pensive  discontent ; 

To  fret  thy  soul  with  crosses  and  with  cares  ; 
To  eat  thy  heart  through  comfortless  despairs ; 
To  fawn,  to  crouch,  to  wait,  to  ride,  to  run, 
To  spend,  to  give,  to  want,  to  be  undone. 

In  1580,  through  Leicester's  influence,  Spenser,  who  was  utterly 
weary  of  his  dependent  position,  was  made  secretary  to  Lord  Grey, 
.the  queen's  deputy  in  Ireland,  and  the  third  period  of  his  life  began. 
He  accompanied  his  chief  through  one  campaign  of  savage  brutality 
in  putting  down  an  Irish  rebellion,  and  was  given  an  immense  estate 
with  the  castle  of  Kilcolman,  in  Munster,  which  had  been  confis- 
cated from  Earl  Desmond,  one  of  the  Irish  leaders.  His  life  here, 
where  according  to  the  terms  of  his  grant  he  must  reside  as  an  Eng- 
lish settler,  he  regarded  as  lonely  exile  : 

My  luckless  lot, 

That  banished  had  myself,  like  wight  forlore, 

Into  that  waste,  where  I  was  quite  forgot. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  here  a  gentle  poet's  view  of  the  "  unhappy 
island."  After  nearly  sixteen  years'  residence  he  wrote  his  View  of 
the  State  of  Ireland  (I596),1  his  only  prose  work,  in  which  he  sub- 
mits a  plan  for  "pacifying  the  oppressed  and  rebellious  people." 
This  was  to  bring  a  huge  force  of  cavalry  and  infantry  into  the 
country,  give  the  Irish  a  brief  time  to  submit,  and  after  that  to  hunt 
them  down  like  wild  beasts.  He  calculated  that  cold,  famine,  and 
sickness  would  help  the  work  of  the  sword,  and  that  after  the  rebels 
had  been  well  hounded  for  two  winters  the  following  summer  would 

l  The  View  was  not  published  till  1633. 


104  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

find  the  country  peaceful.  This  plan,  from  the  poet  of  harmony 
and  beauty,  was  somewhat  milder  than  the  usual  treatment  of  a 
brave  people  whose  offense  was  that  they  loved  liberty  and  reli- 
gion. Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  View  was  considered  most  states- 
manlike, and  was  excellently  well  received  in  England. 

In  Kilcolman,  surrounded  by  great  natural  beauty,  Spenser  fin- 
ished the  first  three  books  of  the  Faery  Queen.  In  1589  Raleigh 
visited  him,  heard  the  poem  with  enthusiasm,  hurried  the  poet  off 
to  London,  and  presented  him  to  Elizabeth.  The  first  three  books 
met  with  instant  success  when  published  and  were  acclaimed  as  the 
greatest  work  in  the  English  language.  A  yearly  pension  of  fifty 
pounds  was  conferred  by  Elizabeth,  but  rarely  paid,  and  the  poet 
turned  back  to  exile,  that  is,  to  Ireland  again. 

Soon  after  his  return,  Spenser  fell  in  love  with  his  beautiful 
Elizabeth,  an  Irish  girl;  wrote  his  Amoretti,  or  sonnets,  in  her 
honor ;  and  afterwards  represented  her,  in  the  Faery  Queen,  as  the 
beautiful  woman  dancing  among  the  Graces.  In  1594  he  married 
Elizabeth,  celebrating  his  wedding  with  his  "  Epithalamion,"  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  wedding  hymns  in  any  language. 

Spenser's  next  visit  to  London  was  in  1595,  when  he  published 
"  Astrophel,"  an  elegy  on  the  death  of  his  friend  Sidney,  and  three 
more  books  of  the  Faery  Queen.  On  this  visit  he  lived  again  at 
Leicester  House,  now  occupied  by  the  new  favorite  Essex,  where  he 
probably  met  Shakespeare  and  the  other  literary  lights  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan Age.  Soon  after  his  return  to  Ireland,  Spenser  was  appointed 
Sheriff  of  Cork,  a  queer  office  for  a  poet,  which  probably  brought 
about  his  undoing.  The  same  year  Tyrone's  Rebellion  broke  out  in 
Munster.  Kilcolman,  the  ancient  house  of  Desmond,  was  one  of  the 
first  places  attacked  by  the  rebels,  and  Spenser  barely  escaped  with 
his  wife  and  two  children.  It  is  supposed  that  some  unfinished  parts 
of  the  Faery  Queen  were  burned  in  the  castle. 

From  the  shock  of  this  frightful  experience  Spenser  never  recov- 
ered. He  returned  to  England  heartbroken,  and  in  the  following 
year  (1599)  he  died  in  an  inn  at  Westminster.  According  to  Ben 
Jonson  he  died  "for  want  of  bread";  but  whether  that  is  a  poetic 
way  of  saying  that  he  had  lost  his  property  or  that  he  actually  died 
of  destitution,  will  probably  never  be  known.  He  was  buried  beside 
his  master  Chaucer  in  Westminster  Abbey,  the  poets  of  that  age 
thronging  to  his  funeral  and,  according  to  Camden,  "casting  their 
elegies  and  the  pens  that  had  written  them  into  his  tomb." 


I 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  105 

Spenser's  Works.  The  Faery  Queen  is  the  great  work  upon 
which  the  poet's  fame  chiefly  rests.  The  original  plan  of  the 
poem  included  twenty-four  books,  each  of  which  was  to 
recount  the  adventure  and  triumph  of  a  knight  who  repre- 
sented a  moral  virtue.  Spenser's  purpose,  as  indicated  in  a 
letter  to  Raleigh  which  introduces  the  poem,  is  as  follows  : 

To  pourtraict  in  Arthure,  before  he  was  king,  the  image  of  a  brave 
Knight,  perfected  in  the  twelve  private  Morall  Vertues,  as  Aristotle  hath 
devised ;  which  is  the  purpose  of  these  first  twelve  bookes :  which  if  I 
finde  to  be  well  accepted,  I  may  be  perhaps  encoraged  to  frame  the  other 
part  of  Polliticke  Vertues  in  his  person,  after  that  hee  came  to  be  king. 

Each  of  the  Virtues  appears  as  a  knight,  fighting  his  oppos- 
ing Vice,  and  the  poem  tells  the  story  of  the  conflicts.  It  is 
therefore  purely  allegorical,  not  only  in  its  personified  virtues 
but  also  in  its  representation  of  life  as  a  struggle  between 
good  and  evil.  In  its  strong  moral  element  the  poem  differs 
radically  from  Orlando  Furioso,  upon  which  it  was  modeled. 
Spenser  completed  only  six  books,  celebrating  Holiness, 
Temperance,  Chastity,  Friendship,  Justice,  and  Courtesy. 
We  have  also  a  fragment  of  the  seventh,  treating  of  Con- 
stancy ;  but  the  rest  of  this  book  was  not  written,  or  else  was 
lost  in  the  fire  at  Kilcolman.  The  first  three  books  are  by 
far  the  best ;  and  judging  by  the  way  the  interest  lags  and 
the  allegory  grows  incomprehensible,  it  is  perhaps  as  well  for 
Spenser's  reputation  that  the  other  eighteen  books  remained 
a  dream. 

Argument  of  the  Faery  Queen.  From  the  introductory  letter 
we  learn  that  the  hero  visits  the  queen's  court  in  Fairy  Land, 
while  she  is  holding  a  twelve-days  festival.  On  each  day  some 
distressed  person  appears  unexpectedly,  tells  a  woful  story  of 
dragons,  of  enchantresses,  or  of  distressed  beauty  or  virtue, 
and  asks  for  a  champion  to  right  the  wrong  and  to  let  the 
oppressed  go  free.  Sometimes  a  knight  volunteers  or  begs 
for  the  dangerous  mission  ;  again  the  duty  is  assigned  by  the 
queen  ;  and  the  journeys  and  adventures  of  these  knights  are 


106  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  subjects  of  the  several  books.  The  first  recounts  the 
adventures  of  the  Redcross  Knight,  representing  Holiness, 
and  the  lady  Una,  representing  Religion.  Their  contests  are 
symbolical  of  the  wo  rid- wide  struggle  between  virtue  and  faith 
on  the  one  hand,  and  sin  and  heresy  on  the  other.  The  second 
book  tells  the  story  of  Sir  Guyon,  or  Temperance ;  the  third, 
of  Britomartis,  representing  Chastity ;  the  fourth,  fifth,  and 
sixth,  of  Cambel  and  Triamond  (Friendship),  Artegall  (Justice), 
and  Sir  Calidore  (Courtesy).  Spenser's  plan  was  a  very  elas- 
tic one  and  he  filled  up  the  measure  of  his  narrative  with 
everything  that  caught  his  fancy,  —  historical  events  and  per- 
sonages under  allegorical  masks,  beautiful  ladies,  chivalrous 
knights,  giants,  monsters,  dragons,  sirens,  enchanters,  and 
adventures  enough  to  stock  a  library  of  fiction.  If  you  read 
Homer  or  Virgil,  you  know  his  subject  in  the  first  strong  line  ; 
if  you  read  Caedmon's  Paraphrase  or  Milton's  epic,  the  intro- 
duction gives  you  the  theme ;  but  Spenser's  great  poem  — 
with  the  exception  of  a  single  line  in  the  prologue,  "  Fierce 
warres  and  faithfull  loves  shall  moralize  my  song" — gives 
hardly  a  hint  of  what  is  coming. 

As  to  the  meaning  of  the  allegorical  figures,  one  is  generally 
in  doubt.  In  the  first  three  books  the  shadowy  Faery  Queen 
sometimes  represents  the  glory  of  God  and  sometimes  Eliza- 
beth, who  was  naturally  flattered  by  the  parallel.  Britomartis 
is  also  Elizabeth.  The  Redcross  Knight  is  Sidney,  the  model 
Englishman.  Arthur,  who  always  appears  to  rescue  the  op- 
pressed, is  Leicester,  which  is  another  outrageous  flattery. 
Una  is  sometimes  religion  and  sometimes  the  Protestant 
Church ;  while  Duessa  represents  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  or 
general  Catholicism.  In  the  last  three  books  Elizabeth  appears 
again  as  Mercilla  ;  Henry  IV  of  France  as  Bourbon  ;  the  war 
in  the  Netherlands  as  the  story  of  Lady  Beige ;  Raleigh  as 
Timias ;  the  earls  of  Northumberland  and  Westmoreland 
(lovers  of  Mary  or  Duessa)  as  Blandamour  and  Paridell ;  and 
so  on  through  the  wide  range  of  contemporary  characters  and 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  107 

events,  till  the  allegory  becomes  as  difficult  to  follow  as  the 
second  part  of  Goethe's  Faust. 

Poetical  Form.  For  the  Faery  Queen  Spenser  invented  a 
new  verse  form,  which  has  been  called  since  his  day  the 
Spenserian  stanza.  Because  of  its  rare  beauty  it  has  been 
much  used  by  nearly  all  our  poets  in  their  best  work.  The 
new  stanza  was  an  improved  form  of  Ariosto's  ottava  rima  (i.e. 
eight-line  stanza)  and  bears  a  close  resemblance  to  one  of 
Chaucer's  most  musical  verse  forms  in  the  "Monk's  Tale." 
Spenser's  stanza  is  in  nine  lines,  eight  of  five  feet  each  and 
the  last  of  six  feet,  riming  ababbcbcc.  A  few  selections  from 
the  first  book,  which  is  best  worth  reading,  are  reproduced 
lere  to  show  the  style  and  melody  of  the  verse. 

A  Gentle  Knight  was  pricking  on  the  plaine, 
Ycladd  l  in  mightie  armes  and  silver  shielde, 
Wherein  old  dints  of  deepe  woundes  did  remaine. 
The  cruell  markes  of  many  a  bloody  fielde ; 
Yet  armes  till  that  time  did  he  never  wield : 
His  angry  steede  did  chide  his  foming  bitt, 
As  much  disdayning  to  the  curbe  to  yield : 
Full  iolly2  knight  he  seemd,  and  faire  did  sitt, 
As  one  for  knightly  giusts  3  and  fierce  encounters  fitt. 

And  on  his  brest  a  bloodie  crosse  he  bore, 
The  deare  remembrance  of  his  dying  Lord, 
For  whose  sweete  sake  that  glorious  badge  he  wore, 
And  dead,  as  living  ever,  him  ador'd: 
Upon  his  shield  the  like  was  also  scor'd, 
For  soveraine  hope,  which  in  his  helpe  he  had, 
Right  faithfull  true  he  was  in  deede  and  word  ; 
But  of  his  cheere  4  did  seeme  too  solemne  sad  ; 
Yet  nothing  did  he  dread,  but  ever  was  ydrad.5 

This  sleepy  bit,  from  the  dwelling  of  Morpheus,  invites  us  to 

linger : 

And,  more  to  lulle  him  in  his  slumber  soft, 

A  trickling  streame  from  high  rock  tumbling  downe, 

And  ever-drizling  raine  upon  the  loft, 

Mixt  with  a  murmuring  winde,  much  like  the  sowne 

Of  swarming  bees,  did  cast  him  in  a  swowne. 

1  clad.      2  handsome.       3  jousts,  tournaments.       4  countenance.       &  dreaded. 


108  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

No  other  noyse,  nor  peoples  troublous  cryes, 
As  still  are  wont  t'annoy  the  walled  towne, 
Might  there  be  heard :  but  carelesse  Quiet  lyes, 
Wrapt  in  eternall  silence  farre  from  enimyes. 

The  description  of  Una  shows  the  poet's  sense  of  ideal  beauty : 

One  day,  nigh  wearie  of  the  yrkesome  way, 
From  her  unhastie  beast  she  did  alight ; 
And  on  the  grasse  her  dainty  limbs  did  lay 
In  secrete  shadow,  far  from  all  mens  sight ; 
From  her  fayre  head  her  fillet  she  undight,1 
And  layd  her  stole  aside.    Her  angels  face, 
As  the  great  eye  of  heaven,  shyne'd  bright, 
And  made  a  sunshine  in  the  shady  place  ; 
Did  never  mortall  eye  behold  such  heavenly  grace. 

It  fortune'd,  out  of  the  thickest  wood 
A  ramping  lyon  rushdd  suddeinly, 
Hunting  full  greedy  after  salvage  blood : 
Soone  as  the  royall  Virgin  he  did  spy, 
With  gaping  mouth  at  her  ran  greedily, 
To  have  attonce  devourd  her  tender  corse : 
But  to  the  pray  whenas  he  drew  more  ny, 
His  bloody  rage  aswaged  with  remorse,2 
And,  with  the  sight  amazd,  forgat  his  furious  forse. 

Instead  thereof  he  kist  her  wearie  feet, 
And  lickt  her  lilly  hands  with  fawning  tong ; 
As  he  her  wrongdd  innocence  did  weet.3 
O  how  can  beautie  maister  the  most  strong, 
And  simple  truth  subdue  avenging  wrong  ! 

Minor  Poems.  Next  to  his  masterpiece,  the  Shepherd's 
Calendar  (1579)  is  the  best  known  of  Spenser's  poems; 
though,  as  his  first  work,  it  is  below  many  others  in  melody. 
It  consists  of  twelve  pastoral  poems,  or  eclogues,  one  for  each 
month  of  the  year.  The  themes  are  generally  rural  life,  nature, 
love  in  the  fields  ;  and  the  speakers  are  shepherds  and  shep- 
herdesses. To  increase  the  rustic  effect  Spenser  uses  strange 
forms  of  speech  and  obsolete  words,  to  such  an  extent  that 
Jonson  complained  his  works  are  not  English  or  any  other 

1  took  off.  2  pity.  a  know. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  109 

language.  Some  are  melancholy  poems  on  his  lost  Rosalind ; 
some  are  satires  on  the  clergy ;  one,  "  The  Briar  and  the 
Oak,"  is  an  allegory;  one  flatters  Elizabeth,  and  others  are 
pure  fables  touched  with  the  Puritan  spirit.  They  are  written 
in  various  styles  and  meters,  and  show  plainly  that  Spenser 
was  practicing  and  preparing  himself  for  greater  work. 

Other  noteworthy  poems  are  "  Mother  Hubbard's  Tale," 
a  satire  on  society;  "Astrophel,"  an  elegy  on  the  death  of  Sid- 

icy ;  Amoretti,  or  sonnets,  to  his  Elizabeth ;  the  marriage 

lymn,  "  Epithalamion,"  and  four  "Hymns,"  on  Love,  Beauty, 
Heavenly  Love,  and  Heavenly  Beauty.    There  are  numerous 

:her  poems  and  collections  of  poems,  but  these  show  the 

:ope  of  his  work  and  are  best  worth  reading. 
Importance  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar.    The  publication  of 
;his  work,  in  1579,  by  an  unknown  writer  who  signed  himself 

lodestly  "  Immerito,"  marks  an  important  epoch  in  our  litera- 
ture. We  shall  appreciate  this  better  if  we  remember  the 
long  years  during  which  England  had  been  without  a  great 
poet.  Chaucer  and  Spenser  are  often  studied  together  as 
poets  of  the  Renaissance  period,  and  the  idea  prevails  that 
they  were  almost  contemporary.  In  fact,  nearly  two  centuries 

issed  after  Chaucer's  death,  —  years  of  enormous  political 
md  intellectual  development,  —  and  not  only  did  Chaucer  have 
no  successor  but  our  language  had  changed  so  rapidly  that 
Englishmen  had  lost  the  ability  to  read  his  lines  correctly.1 

This  first  published  work  of  Spenser  is  noteworthy  in  at 
least  four  respects  :  first,  it  marks  the  appearance  of  the  first 
national  poet  in  two  centuries ;  second,  it  shows  again  the 
variety  and  melody  of  English  verse,  which  had  been  largely 
a  tradition  since  Chaucer ;  third,  it  was  our  first  pastoral,  the 
beginning  of  a  long  series  of  English  pastoral  compositions 
modeled  on  Spenser,  and  as  such  exerted  a  strong  influence 
on  subsequent  literature  ;  and  fourth,  it  marks  the  real  be- 
ginning of  the  outburst  of  great  Elizabethan  poetry. 

1  In  the  nineteenth  century  men  learned  again  to  appreciate  Chaucer. 


HO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Characteristics  of  Spenser 's  Poetry.  The  five  main  qualities 
of  Spenser's  poetry  are  (i)  a  perfect  melody  ;  (2)  a  rare  sense 
of  beauty ;  (3)  a  splendid  imagination,  which  could  gather 
into  one  poem  heroes,  knights,  ladies,  dwarfs,  demons  and 
dragons,  classic  mythology,  stories  of  chivalry,  and  the  throng- 
ing ideals  of  the  Renaissance,  —  all  passing  in  gorgeous  pro- 
cession across  an  ever-changing  and  ever-beautiful  landscape ; 
(4)  a  lofty  moral  purity  and  seriousness ;  (5)  a  delicate  ideal- 
ism, which  could  make  all  nature  and  every  common  thing 
beautiful.  In  contrast  with  these  excellent  qualities  the  reader 
will  probably  note  the  strange  appearance  of  his  lines  due  to 
his  fondness  for  obsolete  words,  like  eyne  (eyes)  and  shend 
(shame),  and  his  tendency  to  coin  others,  like  mercify,  to  suit 
his  own  purposes. 

It  is  Spenser's  idealism,  his  love  of  beauty,  and  his  ex- 
quisite melody  which  have  caused  him  to  be  known  as  "the 
poets'  poet."  Nearly  all  our  subsequent  singers  acknowledge 
their  delight  in  him  and  their  indebtedness.  Macaulay  alone 
among  critics  voices  a  fault  which  all  who  are  not  poets 
quickly  feel,  namely  that,  with  all  Spenser's  excellences,  he  is 
difficult  to  read.  The  modern  man  loses  himself  in  the  con- 
fused allegory  of  the  Faery  Queen,  skips  all  but  the  marked 
passages,  and  softly  closes  the  book  in  gentle  weariness. 
Even  the  best  of  his  longer  poems,  while  of  exquisite  work- 
manship and  delightfully  melodious,  generally  fail  to  hold  the 
reader's  attention.  The  movement  is  languid  ;  there  is  little 
dramatic  interest,  and  only  a  suggestion  of  humor.  The  very 
melody  of  his  verses  sometimes  grows  monotonous,  like  a 
Strauss  waltz  too  long  continued.  We  shall  best  appreciate 
Spenser  by  reading  at  first  only  a  few  well-chosen  selections 
from  the  Faery  Queen  and  the  Shepherd's  Calendar,  and  a  few 
of  the  minor  poems  which  exemplify  his  wonderful  melody. 

Comparison  between  Chaucer  and  Spenser.  At  the  outset 
it  is  well  to  remember  that,  though  Spenser  regarded  Chaucer 
as  his  master,  two  centuries  intervene  between  them,  and  that 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  III 

their  writings  have  almost  nothing  in  common.  We  shall 
appreciate  this  better  by  a  brief  comparison  between  our  first 
two  modern  poets. 

Chaucer  was  a  combined  poet  and  man  of  affairs,  with  the 
latter  predominating.  Though  dealing  largely  with  ancient  or 
mediaeval  material,  he  has  a  curiously  modern  way  of  looking 
at  life.  Indeed,  he  is  our  only  author  preceding  Shakespeare 
with  whom  we  feel  thoroughly  at  home.  He  threw  aside  the 
outgrown  metrical  romance,  which  was  practically  the  only 
form  of  narrative  in  his  day,  invented  the  art  of  story-telling 
in  verse,  and  brought  it  to  a  degree  of  perfection  which  has 
probably  never  since  been  equaled.  Though  a  student  of  the 
classics,  he  lived  wholly  in  the  present,  studied  the  men  and 
women  of  his  own  time,  painted  them  as  they  were,  but  added 
always  a  touch  of  kindly  humor  or  romance  to  make  them 
interesting.  So  his  mission  appears  to  be  simply  to 
amuse  himself  and  his  readers.  His  mastery  of  various  and 
melodious  verse  was  marvelous  and  has  never  been  surpassed 
in  our  language ;  but  the  English  of  his  day  was  changing 
rapidly,  and  in  a  very  few  years  men  were  unable  to  appreciate 
his  art,  so  that  even  to  Spenser  and  Dryden,  for  example,  he 
seemed  deficient  in  metrical  skill.  On  this  account  his  influ- 
ence on  our  literature  has  been  much  less  than  we  should 
expect  from  the  quality  of  his  work  and  from  his  position  as 
one  of  the  greatest  of  English  poets. 

Like  Chaucer,  Spenser  was  a  busy  man  of  affairs,  but  in 
him  the  poet  and  the  scholar  always  predominates.  He  writes 
as  the  idealist,  describing  men  not  as  they  are  but  as  he  thinks 
they  should  be  ;  he  has  no  humor,  and  his  mission  is  not  to 
amuse  but  to  reform.  Like  Chaucer  he  studies  the  classics 
and  contemporary  French  and  Italian  writers  ;  but  instead  of 
adapting  his  material  to  present-day  conditions,  he  makes 
poetry,  as  in  his  Eclogues  for  instance,  more  artificial  even 
than  his  foreign  models.  Where  Chaucer  looks  about  him  and 
describes  life  as  he  sees  it,  Spenser  always  looks  backward  for 


112  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

his  inspiration;  he  lives  dreamily  in  the  past,  in  a  realm  of 
purely  imaginary  emotions  and  adventures.  His  first  quality 
is  imagination,  not  observation,  and  he  is  the  first  of  our  poets 
to  create  a  world  of  dreams,  fancies,  and  illusions.  His  second 
quality  is  a  wonderful  sensitiveness  to  beauty,  which  shows 
itself  not  only  in  his  subject-matter  but  also  in  the  manner  of 
his  poetry.  Like  Chaucer,  he  is  an  almost  perfect  workman ; 
but  in  reading  Chaucer  we  think  chiefly  of  his  natural  char- 
acters or  his  ideas,  while  in  reading  Spenser  we  think  of  the 
beauty  of  expression.  The  exquisite  Spenserian  stanza  and 
the  rich  melody  of  Spenser's  verse  have  made  him  the  model 
of  all  our  modern  poets. 

MINOR  POETS 

Though  Spenser  is  the  one  great  non-dramatic  poet  of  the 
Elizabethan  Age,  a  multitude  of  minor  poets  demand  atten- 
tion of  the  student  who  would  understand  the  tremendous 
literary  activity  of  the  period.  One  needs  only  to  read  The 
Paradyse  of  Daynty  Devises  (15  76),  or  A  Gorgeous  Gallery 
of  Gallant  Inventions  (1578),  or  any  other  of  the  miscellane- 
ous collections  to  find  hundreds  of  songs,  many  of  them  of 
exquisite  workmanship,  by  poets  whose  names  now  awaken 
no  response.  A  glance  is  enough  to  assure  one  that  over  all 
England  "the  sweet  spirit  of  song  had  arisen,  like  the  first 
chirping  of  birds  after  a  storm."  Nearly  two  hundred  poets 
are  recorded  in  the  short  period  from  1558  to  1625,  and 
many  of  them  were  prolific  writers.  In  a  work  like  this,  we 
can  hardly  do  more  than  mention  a  few  of  the  best  known 
writers,  and  spend  a  moment  at  least  with  the  works  that 
suggest  Marlowe's  description  of  "infinite  riches  in  a  little 
room."  The  reader  will  note  for  himself  the  interesting  union 
of  action  and  thought  in  these  men,  so  characteristic  of  the 
Elizabethan  Age ;  for  most  of  them  were  engaged  chiefly  in 
business  or  war  or  politics,  and  literature  was  to  them  a  pleas- 
ant recreation  rather  than  an  absorbing  profession. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  113 

Thomas  Sackville  (1536-1608).  Sir  Thomas  Sackville,  Earl 
of  Dorset  and  Lord  High  Treasurer  of  England,  is  generally 
classed  with  Wyatt  and  Surrey  among  the  predecessors  of 
the  Elizabethan  Age.  In  imitation  of  Dante's  Inferno,  Sack- 
ville formed  the  design  of  a  great  poem  called  The  Mirror 
for  Magistrates.  Under  guidance  of  an  allegorical  personage 
called  Sorrow,  he  meets  the  spirits  of  all  the  important  actors 
in  English  history.  The  idea  was  to  follow  Lydgate's  Fall  of 
Princes  and  let  each  character  tell  his  own  story ;  so  that 
the  poem  would  be  a  mirror  in  which  present  rulers  might 
see  themselves  and  read  this  warning :  "  Who  reckless  rules 
right  soon  may  hope  to  rue."  Sackville  finished  only  the  "  In- 
duction "  and  the  "Complaint  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham/ 
These  are  written  in  the  rime  royal,  and  are  marked  by 
strong  poetic  feeling  and  expression.  Unfortunately  Sackville 
turned  from  poetry  to  politics,  and  the  poem  was  carried  on 
by  two  inferior  poets,  William  Baldwin  and  George  Ferrers. 

Sackville  wrote  also,  in  connection  with  Thomas  Norton, 
the  first  English  tragedy,  Ferrex  and  Porrex,  called  also 
Gorbodttc,  which  will  be  considered  in  the  following  section ] 
on  the  Rise  of  the  Drama. 

Philip  Sidney  (1554-1586).  Sidney,  the  ideal  gentleman, 
the  Sir  Calidore  of  Spenser's  "Legend  of  Courtesy,"  is  vastly 
more  interesting  as  a  man  than  as  a  writer,  and  the  student 
is  recommended  to  read  his  biography  rather  than  his  books. 
His  life  expresses,  better  than  any  single  literary  work,  the 
two  ideals  of  the  age,  —  personal  honor  and  national  greatness. 

As  a  writer  he  is  known  by  three  principal  works,  all 
published  after  his  death,  showing  how  little  importance  he 
attached  to  his  own  writing,  even  while  he  was  encouraging 
Spenser.  The  Arcadia  is  a  pastoral  romance,  interspersed 
with  eclogues,  in  which  shepherds  and  shepherdesses  sing  of 
the  delights  of  rural  life.  Though  the  work  was  taken  up 
idly  as  a  summer's  pastime,  it  became  immensely  popular  and 

1  See  p.  125. 


114  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

was  imitated  by  a  hundred  poets.  The  Apologie  for  Poetrie 
(1595),  generally  called  the  Defense  of  Poesie,  appeared  in 
answer  to  a  pamphlet  by  Stephen  Gosson  called  The  School 
of  Abuse  (1579),  in  which  the  poetry  of  the  age  and  its  un- 
bridled pleasure  were  denounced  with  Puritan  thoroughness 
and  conviction.  The  Apologie  is  one  of  the  first  critical  essays 
in  English  ;  and  though  its  style  now  seems  labored  and  unnat- 
ural, —  the  pernicious  result  of  Euphues  and  his  school,  —  it 
is  still  one  of  the  best  expressions  of  the  place  and  meaning 
of  poetry  in  any  language.  Astrophel  and  Stella  is  a  col- 
lection of  songs  and  sonnets  addressed  to  Lady  Penelope 
Devereux,  to  whom  Sidney  had  once  been  betrothed.  They 
abound  in  exquisite  lines  and  passages,  containing  more  poetic 
feeling  and  expression  than  the  songs  of  any  other  minor  writer 
of  the  age, 

George  Chapman  (i559?-i634).  Chapman  spent  his  long, 
quiet  life  among  the  dramatists,  and  wrote  chiefly  for  the 
stage.  His  plays,  which  were  for  the  most  part  merely  poems 
in  dialogue,  fell  far  below  the  high  dramatic  standard  of  his 
time  and  are  now  almost  unread.  His  most  famous  work  is 
the  metrical  translation  of  the  Iliad  (1611}  and  of  the  Odyssey 
(1614).  Chapman's  Homer,  though  lacking  the  simplicity  and 
dignity  of  the  original,  has  a  force  and  rapidity  of  movement 
which  makes  it  superior  in  many  respects  to  Pope's  more 
familiar  translation.  Chapman  is  remembered  also  as  the 
finisher  of  Marlowe's  Hero  and  Leander,  in  which,  apart  from 
the  drama,  the  Renaissance  movement  is  seen  at  perhaps  its 
highest  point  in  English  poetry.  Out  of  scores  of  long  poems 
of  the  period,  Hero  and  Leander  and  the  Faery  Queen  are  the 
only  two  which  are  even  slightly  known  to  modern  readers. 

Michael  Drayton  (1563-1631).  Drayton  is  the  most  volu- 
minous and,  to  antiquarians  at  least,  the  most  interesting  of  the 
minor  poets.  He  is  the  Layamon  of  the  Elizabethan  Age,  and 
vastly  more  scholarly  than  his  predecessor.  His  chief  work 
is  Polyolbion,  an  enormous  poem  of  many  thousand  couplets, 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  11$ 

describing  the  towns,  mountains,  and  rivers  of  Britain,  with 
the  interesting  legends  connected  with  each.  It  is  an  extremely 
valuable  work  and  represents  a  lifetime  of  study  and  research. 
Two  other  long  works  are  the  Barons'  Wars  and  the  Heroic 
Epistle  of  England ;  and  besides  these  were  many  minor 
poems.  One  of  the  best  of  these  is  the  "  Ballad  of  Agincourt," 
a  ballad  written  in  the  lively  meter  which  Tennyson  used  with 
some  variations  in  the  "  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade,"  and 
which  shows  the  old  English  love  of  brave  deeds  and  of  the 
songs  that  stir  a  people's  heart  in  memory  of  noble  ancestors. 

III.   THE  FIRST  ENGLISH  DRAMATISTS 

The  Origin  of  the  Drama.  First  the  deed,  then  the  story, 
then  the  play ;  that  seems  to  be  the  natural  development  of 
the  drama  in  its  simplest  form.  The  great  deeds  of  a  people 
are  treasured  in  its  literature,  and  later  generations  represent 
in  play  or  pantomime  certain  parts  of  the  story  which  appeal 
most  powerfully  to  the  imagination.  Among  primitive  races 
the  deeds  of  their  gods  and  heroes  are  often  represented  at 
the  yearly  festivals  ;  and  among  children,  whose  instincts  are 
not  yet  blunted  by  artificial  habits,  one  sees  the  story  that 
was  heard  at  bedtime  repeated  next  day  in  vigorous  action, 
when  our  boys  turn  scouts  and  our  girls  princesses,  precisely 
as  our  first  dramatists  turned  to  the  old  legends  and  heroes 
of  Britain  for  their  first  stage  productions.  To  act  a  part 
seems  as  natural  to  humanity  as  to  tell  a  story ;  and  origi- 
nally the  drama  is  but  an  old  story  retold  to  the  eye,  a  story 
put  into  action  by  living  performers,  who  for  the  moment 
"make  believe  "  or  imagine  themselves  to  be  the  old  heroes. 

To  illustrate  the  matter  simply,  there  was  a  great  life  lived 
by  him  who  was  called  the  Christ.  Inevitably  the  life  found 
its  way  into  literature,  and  we  have  the  Gospels.  Around  the 
life  and  literature  sprang  up  a  great  religion.  Its  worship 
was  at  first  simple, — the  common  prayer,  the  evening  meal 
together,  the  remembered  words  of  the  Master,  and  the 


Ii6  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

closing  hymn.  Gradually  a  ritual  was  established,  which  grew 
more  elaborate  and  impressive  as  the  centuries  went  by. 
Scenes  from  the  Master's  life  began  to  be  represented  in  the 
churches,  especially  at  Christmas  time,  when  the  story  of 
Christ's  birth  was  made  more  effective,  to  the  eyes  of  a 
people  who  could  not  read,  by  a  babe  in  a  manger  surrounded 
by  magi  and  shepherds,  with  a  choir  of  angels  chanting  the 
Gloria  in  Excelsisl  Other  impressive  scenes  from  the  Gospel 
followed ;  then  the  Old  Testament  was  called  upon,  until  a 
complete  cycle  of  plays  from  the  Creation  to  the  Final  Judg- 
ment was  established,  and  we  have  the  Mysteries  and  Miracle 
plays  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Out  of  these  came  directly  the 
drama  of  the  Elizabethan  Age. 

PERIODS  IN  THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  DRAMA 

i.  The  Religious  Period.  In  Europe,  as  in  Greece,  the 
drama  had  a  distinctly  religious  origin.2  The  first  characters 
were  drawn  from  the  New  Testament,  and  the  object  of  the 
first  plays  was  to  make  the  church  service  more  impressive, 
or  to  emphasize  moral  lessons  by  showing  the  reward  of  the 
good  and  the  punishment  of  the  evil  doer.  In  the  latter  days 
of  the  Roman  Empire  the  Church  found  the  stage  possessed 
by  frightful  plays,  which  debased  the  morals  of  a  people 
already  fallen  too  low.  Reform  seemed  impossible ;  the  cor- 
rupt drama  was  driven  from  the  stage,  and  plays  of  every 
kind  were  forbidden.  But  mankind  loves  a  spectacle,  and 

1  The  most  dramatic  part  of  the  early  ritual  centered  about  Christ's  death  and  resur- 
rection, on  Good  Fridays  and  Easter  days.   An  exquisite  account  of  this  most  impressive 
service  is  preserved  in  St.  Ethelwold's  Latin  manual  of  church  services,  written  about 
965.   The  Latin  and  English  versions  are  found  in  Chambers's  Medieval  Stage,  Vol.  II. 
For  a  brief,  interesting  description,  see  Gayley,  Plays  of  Our  Forefathers,  pp.  14  ff. 

2  How  much  we  are  indebted  to  the  Norman  love  of  pageantry  for  the  development 
of  the  drama  in  England  is  an  unanswered  question.    During  the  Middle  Ages  it  was 
customary,  in  welcoming  a  monarch  or  in  celebrating  a  royal  wedding,  to  represent 
allegorical  and  mythological  scenes,  like  the  combat  of  St.  George  and  the  dragon,  for 
instance,  on  a  stage  constructed  for  the  purpose.    These  pageants  were  popular  all  over 
Europe  and  developed  during  the  Renaissance  into  the  dramatic  form  known  as  the 
Masque.    Though  the  drama  was  of  religious  origin,  we  must  not  overlook  these  secular 
pageants  as  an  important  factor  in  the  development  of  dramatic  art. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  1 1/ 

soon  the  Church  itself  provided  a  substitute  for  the  forbidden 
plays  in  the  famous  Mysteries  and  Miracles. 

Miracle  and  Mystery  Plays.  In  France  the  name  miracle 
was  given  to  any  play  representing  the  lives  of  the  saints, 
while  the  mystire  represented  scenes  from  the  life  of  Christ 
or  stories  from  the  Old  Testament  associated  with  the  coming 
of  Messiah.  In  England  this  distinction  was  almost  unknown  ; 
the  name  Miracle  was  used  indiscriminately  for  all  plays  hav- 
ing their  origin  in  the  Bible  or  in  the  lives  of  the  saints ;  and 
the  name  Mystery,  to  distinguish  a  certain  class  of  plays,  was 
not  used  until  long  after  the  religious  drama  had  passed  away. 

The  earliest  Miracle  of  which  we  have  any  record  in  Eng- 
land is  the  Ludus  de  Sancta  Katharina,  which  was  performed 
in  Dunstable  about  the  year  mo.1  It  is  not  known  who 
wrote  the  original  play  of  St.  Catherine,  but  our  first  version 
was  prepared  by  Geoffrey  of  St.  Albans,  a  French  school- 
teacher of  Dunstable.  Whether  or  not  the  play  was  given  in 
English  is  not  known,  but  it  was  customary  in  the  earliest 
plays  for  the  chief  actors  to  speak  in  Latin  or  French,  to 
show  their  importance,  while  minor  and  comic  parts  of  the 
same  play  were  given  in  English. 

For  four  centuries  after  this  first  recorded  play  the  Mira- 
cles increased  steadily  in  number  and  popularity  in  England. 
They  were  given  first  very  simply  and  impressively  in  the 
churches ;  then,  as  the  actors  increased  in  number  and  the 
plays  in  liveliness,  they  overflowed  to  the  churchyards ;  but 
when  fun  and  hilarity  began  to  predominate  even  in  the  most 
sacred  representations,  the  scandalized  priests  forbade  plays 
altogether  on  church  grounds.  By  the  year  1 300  the  Miracles 
were  out  of  ecclesiastical  hands  and  adopted  eagerly  by  the 
town  guilds ;  and  in  the  following  two  centuries  we  find  the 
Church  preaching  against  the  abuse  of  the  religious  drama 

1  Miracles  were  acted  on  the  Continent  earlier  than  this.  The  Normans  undoubtedly 
brought  religious  plays  with  them,  but  it  is  probable  that  they  began  in  England  before 
the  Conquest  (1066).  See  Manly,  Specimens  of  the  Pre-Shaksperean  Drama,  I,  xix. 


Ii8  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

which  it  had  itself  introduced,  and  which  at  first  had  served  a 
purely  religious  purpose.1  But  by  this  time  the  Miracles  had 
taken  strong  hold  upon  the  English  people,  and  they  continued 
to  be  immensely  popular  until,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  they 
were  replaced  by  the  Elizabethan  drama. 

The  early  Miracle  plays  of  England  were  divided  into  two 
classes  :  the  first,  given  at  Christmas,  included  all  plays  con- 
Cycies  of  nected  with  the  birth  of  Christ ;  the  second,  at 
Plays  Easter,  included  the  plays  relating  to  his  death 

and  triumph.  By  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century  all 
these  plays  were,  in  various  localities,  united  in  single  cycles 
beginning  with  the  Creation  and  ending  with  the  Final  Judg- 
ment. The  complete  cycle  was  presented  every  spring,  be- 
ginning on  Corpus  Christi  day  ;  and  as  the  presentation  of  so 
many  plays  meant  a  continuous  outdoor  festival  of  a  week  or 
more,  this  day  was  looked  forward  to  as  the  happiest  of  the 
whole  year. 

Probably  every  important  town  in  England  had  its  own 
cycle  of  plays  for  its  own  guilds  to  perform,  but  nearly  all 
have  been  lost.  At  the  present  day  only  four  cycles  exist 
(except  in  the  most  fragmentary  condition),  and  these,  though 
they  furnish  an  interesting  commentary  on  the  times,  add 
very  little  to  our  literature.  The  four  cycles  are  the  Ches- 
ter and  York  plays,  so  called  from  the  towns  in  which  they 
were  given ;  the  Towneley  or  Wakefield  plays,  named  for  the 
Towneley  family,  which  for  a  long  time  owned  the  manu- 
script ;  and  the  Coventry  plays,  which  on  doubtful  evidence 
have  been  associated  with  the  Grey  Friars  (Franciscans)  of 
Coventry.  The  Chester  cycle  has  25  plays,  the  Wakefield  30, 
the  Coventry  42,  and  the  York  48.  It  is  impossible  to  fix 
either  the  date  or  the  authorship  of  any  of  these  plays ; 
we  only  know  certainly  that  they  were  in  great  favor  from 
the  twelfth  to  the  sixteenth  century.  The  York  plays  are 

1  See  Jusserand,  A  Literary  History  of  the  English  People.,  I,  iii,  vi.  For  our  earliest 
plays  and  their  authors  see  Gayley,  Plays  of  Our  Forefathers, 


and  thi 
Actors 

four 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  119 

generally  considered  to  be  the  best ;  but  those  of  Wakefield 
show  more  humor  and  variety,  and  better  workmanship.  The 
former  cycle  especially  shows  a  certain  unity  resulting  from 
its  aim  to  represent  the  whole  of  man's  life  from  birth  to 
death.  The  same  thing  is  noticeable  in  Cursor  Mundi, 
which,  with  the  York  and  Wakefield  cycles,  belongs  to  the 
fourteenth  century. 

At  first  the  actors  as  well  as  the  authors  of  the  Miracles 
were  the  priests  and  their  chosen  assistants.  Later,  when 
The  sta  e  *^e  town  guilds  took  up  the  plays  and  each  guild 
and  the  became  responsible  for  one  or  more  of  the  series, 
the  actors  were  carefully  selected  and  trained.  By 
four  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  Corpus  Christi  all  the  players 
had  to  be  in  their  places  in  the  movable  theaters,  which  were 
scattered  throughout  the  town  in  the  squares  and  open  places. 
Each  of  these  theaters  consisted  of  a  two-story  platform, 
set  on  wheels.  The  lower  story  was  a  dressing  room  for  the 
actors  ;  the  upper  story  was  the  stage  proper,  and  was  reached 
by  a  trapdoor  from  below.  When  the  play  was  over  the  plat- 
form was  dragged  away,  and  the  next  play  in  the  cycle  took  its 
place.  So  in  a  single  square  several  plays  would  be  presented 
in  rapid  sequence  to  the  same  audience.  Meanwhile  the  first 
play  moved  on  to  another  square,  where  another  audience 
waiting  to  hear  it. 

Though  the  plays  were  distinctly  religious  in  character, 
here  is  hardly  one  without  its  humorous  element.  In  the 
»lay  of  Noah,  for  instance,  Noah's  shrewish  wife  makes  fun 
.or  the  audience  by  wrangling  with  her  husband.  In  the 
Crucifixion  play  Herod  is  a  prankish  kind  of  tyrant  who 
leaves  the  stage  to  rant  among  the  audience ;  so  that  to 
"out-herod  Herod"  became  a  common  proverb.  In  all  the 
plays  the  devil  is  a  favorite  character  and  the  butt  of  every 
joke.  He  also  leaves  the  stage  to  play  pranks  or  frighten  the 
wondering  children.  On  the  side  of  the  stage  was  often  seen 
a  huge  dragon's  head  with  gaping  red  jaws,  belching  forth 


1 

thei 

T»1cjil 


120  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

fire  and  smoke,  out  of  which  poured  a  tumultuous  troop  of 
devils  with  clubs  and  pitchforks  and  gridirons  to  punish  the 
wicked  characters  and  to  drag  them  away  at  last,  howling 
and  shrieking,  into  hell-mouth,  as  the  dragon's  head  was 
called.  So  the  fear  of  hell  was  ingrained  into  an  ignorant 
people  for  four  centuries.  Alternating  with  these  horrors 
were  bits  of  rough  horse-play  and  domestic  scenes  of  peace 
and  kindliness,  representing  the  life  of  the  English  fields  and 
homes.  With  these  were  songs  and  carols,  like  that  of  the 
Nativity,  for  instance : 

As  I  out  rode  this  enderes  (last)  night, 
Of  three  jolly  shepherds  I  saw  a  sight, 
And  all  about  their  fold  a  star  shone  bright; 

They  sang  terli  terloiv, 
So  merryly  the  shepherds  their  pipes  can  blow. 

Down  from  heaven,  from  heaven  so  high, 
Of  angels  there  came  a  great  companye 
With  mirth,  and  joy,  and  great  solemnitye ; 

They  sang  terli  terlow, 
So  merryly  the  shepherds  their  pipes  can  blow. 

Such  songs  were  taken  home  by  the  audience  and  sung  for  a 
season,  as  a  popular  tune  is  now  caught  from  the  stage  and 
sung  on  the  streets  ;  and  at  times  the  whole  audience  would 
very  likely  join  in  the  chorus. 

After  these  plays  were  written  according  to  the  general 
outline  of  the  Bible  stories,  no  change  was  tolerated,  the 
audience  insisting,  like  children  at  "  Punch  and  Judy,"  upon 
seeing  the  same  things  year  after  year.  No  originality  in  plot 
or  treatment  was  possible,  therefore  ;  the  only  variety  was  in 
new  songs  and  jokes,  and  in  the  pranks  of  the  devil.  Child- 
ish as  such  plays  seem  to  us,  they  are  part  of  the  religious 
development  of  all  uneducated  people.  Even  now  the  Persian 
play  of  the  "Martyrdom  of  AH"  is  celebrated  yearly,  and 
the  famous  "Passion  Play,"  a  true  Miracle,  is  given  every 
ten  years  at  Oberammergau. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  121 

2.  The  Moral  Period  of  the  Drama.1  The  second  or  moral 
period  of  the  drama  is  shown  by  the  increasing  prevalence  of 
the  Morality  plays.  In  these  the  characters  were  allegorical 
personages,  —  Life,  Death,  Repentance,  Goodness,  Love, 
Greed,  and  other  virtues  and  vices.  The  Moralities  may  be 
regarded,  therefore,  as  the  dramatic  counterpart  of  the  once 
popular  allegorical  poetry  exemplified  by  the  Romance  of  the 
Rose.  It  did  not  occur  to  our  first,  unknown  dramatists  to 
portray  men  and  women  as  they  are  until  they  had  first  made 
characters  of  abstract  human  qualities.  Nevertheless,  the 
Morality  marks  a  distinct  advance  over  the  Miracle  in  that  it 
gave  free  scope  to  the  imagination  for  new  plots  and  incidents. 
In  Spain  and  Portugal  these  plays,  under  the  name  auto,  were 
wonderfully  developed  by  the  genius  of  Calderon  and  Gil 
Vicente ;  but  in  England  the  Morality  was  a  dreary  kind  of 
performance,  like  the  allegorical  poetry  which  preceded  it. 

To  enliven  the  audience  the  devil  of  the  Miracle  plays  was 
introduced  ;  and  another  lively  personage  called  the  Vice  was 
the  predecessor  of  our  modern  clown  and  jester.  His  busi- 
ness was  to  torment  the  "virtues"  by  mischievous  pranks, 
and  especially  to  make  the  devil's  life  a  burden  by  beating 
him  with  a  bladder  or  a  wooden  sword  at  every  opportunity. 
The  Morality  generally  ended  in  the  triumph  of  virtue,  the 
devil  leaping  into  hell-mouth  with  Vice  on  his  back. 

The  best  known  of  the  Moralities  is  "Everyman,"  which  has  recently 
been  revived  in  England  and  America.  The  subject  of  the  play  is  the 

1  These  three  periods  are  not  historically  accurate.  The  author  uses  them  to  empha- 
size three  different  views  of  our  earliest  plays  rather  than  to  suggest  that  there  was  any 
orderly  or  chronological  development  from  Miracle  to  Morality  and  thence  to  the  Inter- 
ludes. The  latter  is  a  prevalent  opinion,  but  it  seems  hardly  warranted  by  the  facts. 
Thus,  though  the  Miracles  precede  the  Moralities  by  two  centuries  (the  first  known 
Morality,  "  The  Play  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,"  mentioned  by  Wyclif,  was  given  probably 
about  1375),  some  of  the  best  known  Moralities,  like  "  Pride  of  Life,"  precede  many  of 
the  later  York  Miracles.  And  the  term  Interlude,  which  is  often  used  as  symbolical  of 
the  transition  from  the  moral  to  the  artistic  period  of  the  drama,  was  occasionally  used 
in  England  (fourteenth  century)  as  synonymous  with  Miracle  and  again  (sixteenth  century) 
as  synonymous  with  Comedy.  That  the  drama  had  these  three  stages  seems  reasonably 
certain ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  fix  the  limits  of  any  one  of  them,  and  all  three  are  some- 
times seen  together  in  one  of  the  later  Miracles  of  the  Wakefield  cycle. 


122  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

summoning  of  every  man  by  Death  ;  and  the  moral  is  that  nothing  can 
take  away  the  terror  of  the  inevitable  summons  but  an  honest  life  and 
the  comforts  of  religion.  In  its  dramatic  unity  it  suggests  the  pure 
Greek  drama ;  there  is  no  change  of  time  or  scene,  and  the  stage  is 
never  empty  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  performance.  Other 
well-known  Moralities  are  the  "Pride  of  Life,"  "  Hyckescorner,"  and 
"  Castell  of  Perseverance."  In  the  latter,  man  is  represented  as  shut  up 
in  a  castle  garrisoned  by  the  virtues  and  besieged  by  the  vices. 

Like  the  Miracle  plays,  most  of  the  old  Moralities  are  ot 
unknown  date  and  origin.  Of  the  known  authors  of  Moral- 
ities, two  of  the  best  are  John  Skelton,  who  wrote  "  Mag- 
nificence," and  probably  also  "The  Necromancer";  and  Sir 
David  Lindsay  (1490-1555),  "the  poet  of  the  Scotch  Refor- 
mation," whose  religious  business  it  was  to  make  rulers  un- 
comfortable by  telling  them  unpleasant  truths  in  the  form 
of  poetry.  With  these  men  a  new  element  enters  into  the 
Moralities.  They  satirize  or  denounce  abuses  of  Church  and 
State,  and  introduce  living  personages  thinly  disguised  as 
allegories ;  so  that  the  stage  first  becomes  a  power  in  shap- 
ing events  and  correcting  abuses. 

The  Interludes.  It  is  impossible  to  draw  any  accurate  line 
of  distinction  between  the  Moralities  and  Interludes.  In  gen- 
eral we  may  think  of  the  latter  as  dramatic  scenes,  some- 
times given  by  themselves  (usually  with  music  and  singing)  at 
banquets  and  entertainments  where  a  little  fun  was  wanted ; 
and  again  slipped  into  a  Miracle  play  to  enliven  the  audience 
after  a  solemn  scene.  Thus  on  the  margin  of  a  page  of  one 
of  the  old  Chester  plays  we  read,  "The  boye  and  pigge  when 
the  kinges  are  gone."  Certainly  this  was  no  part  of  the 
original  scene  between  Herod  and  the  three  kings.  So  also 
the  quarrel  between  Noah  and  his  wife  is  probably  a  late 
addition  to  an  old  play.  The  Interludes  originated,  undoubt- 
edly, in  a  sense  of  humor;  and  to  John  Hey  wood  (1497?- 
1580  ?),  a  favorite  retainer  and  jester  at  the  court  of  Mary,  is 
due  the  credit  for  raising  the  Interlude  to  the  distinct  dramatic 
form  known  as  comedy. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  123 

Heywood's  Interludes  were  written  between  1520  and  1540.  His 
most  famous  is  "  The  Four  P's,"  a  contest  of  wit  between  a  "  Pardoner, 
a  Palmer,  a  Pedlar  and  a  Poticary."  The  characters  here  strongly  sug- 
gest those  of  Chaucer.1  Another  interesting  Interlude  is  called  "The 
Play  of  the  Weather."  In  this  Jupiter  and  the  gods  assemble  to  listen 
to  complaints  about  the  weather  and  to  reform  abuses.  Naturally  every- 
body wants  his  own  kind  of  weather.  The  climax  is  reached  by  a  boy 
who  announces  that  a  boy's  pleasure  consists  in  two  things,  catch- 
ing birds  and  throwing  snowballs,  and  begs  for  the  weather  to  be  such 
that  he  can  always  do  both.  Jupiter  decides  that  he  will  do  just  as  he 
pleases  about  the  weather,  and  everybody  goes  home  satisfied. 

All  these  early  plays  were  written,  for  the  most  part,  in  a 
mingling  of  prose  and  wretched  doggerel,  and  add  nothing 
to  our  literature.  Their  great  work  was  to  train  actors,  to 
keep  alive  the  dramatic  spirit,  and  to  prepare  the  way  for 
the  true  drama. 

3.  The  Artistic  Period  of  the  Drama.  The  artistic  is  the 
final  stage  in  the  development  of  the  English  drama.  It  dif- 
fers radically  from  the  other  two  in  that  its  chief  purpose 
is  not  to  point  a  moral  but  to  represent  human  life  as  it  is. 
The  artistic  drama  may  have  purpose,  no  less  than  the  Mir- 
acle play,  but  the  motive  is  always  subordinate  to  the  chief 
end  of  representing  life  itself. 

The  first  true  play  in  English,  with  a  regular  plot,  divided 
into  acts  and  scenes,  is  probably  the  comedy,  "  Ralph  Royster 
The  First  Doyster."  It  was  written  by  Nicholas  Udall,  mas- 
Comedy  ter  of  Eton,  and  later  of  Westminster  school,  and 
was  first  acted  by  his  schoolboys  some  time  before  1556. 
The  story  is  that  of  a  conceited  fop  in  love  with  a  widow,  who 
is  already  engaged  to  another  man.  The  play  is  an  adaptation 
of  the  Miles  Gloriosus,  a  classic  comedy  by  Plautus,  and  the 
English  characters  are  more  or  less  artificial ;  but  as  furnish- 
ing a  model  of  a  clear  plot  and  natural  dialogue,  the  influence 
of  this  first  comedy,  with  its  mixture  of  classic  and  English 
elements,  can  hardly  be  overestimated. 

1  In  fact,  Hey  wood  w  cribbed "  from  Chaucer's  Tales  in  another  Interlude  called 
"The  Pardoner  and  the  Frere." 


124  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

The  next  play,  "Gammer  Gurton's  Needle''  (dr.  1562),  is 
a  domestic  comedy,  a  true  bit  of  English  realism,  represent- 
ing the  life  of  the  peasant  class. 

Gammer  Gurton  is  patching  the  leather  breeches  of  her  man  Hodge, 
when  Gib,  the  cat,  gets  into  the  milk  pan.  While  Gammer  chases  the 
cat  the  family  needle  is  lost,  a  veritable  calamity  in  those  days.  The 
whole  household  is  turned  upside  down,  and  the  neighbors  are  dragged 
into  the  affair.  Various  comical  situations  are  brought  about  by  Diccon, 
a  thieving  vagabond,  who  tells  Gammer  that  her  neighbor,  Dame  Chatte, 
has  taken  her  needle,  and  who  then  hurries  to  tell  Dame  Chatte  that 
she  is  accused  by  Gammer  of  stealing  a  favorite  rooster.  Naturally 
there  is  a  terrible  row  when  the  two  irate  old  women  meet  and  misun- 
derstand each  other.  Diccon  also  drags  Doctor  Rat,  the  curate,  into 
the  quarrel  by  telling  him  that,  if  he  will  but  creep  into  Dame  Chatte's 
cottage  by  a  hidden  way,  he  will  find  her  using  the  stolen  needle.  Then 
Diccon  secretly  warns  Dame  Chatte  that  Gammer  Gurton's  man  Hodge 
is  coming  to  steal  her  chickens  ;  and  the  old  woman  hides  in  the  dark 
passage  and  cudgels  the  curate  soundly  with  the  door  bar.  All  the  parties 
are  finally  brought  before  the  justice,  when  Hodge  suddenly  and  pain- 
fully finds  the  lost  needle  —  which  is  all  the  while  stuck  in  his  leather 
breeches  —  and  the  scene  ends  uproariously  for  both  audience  and  actors. 

This  first  wholly  English  comedy  is  full  of  fun  and  coarse 
humor,  and  is  wonderfully  true  to  the  life  it  represents.  It 
was  long  attributed  to  John  Still,  afterwards  bishop  of  Bath ; 
but  the  authorship  is  now  definitely  assigned  to  William 
Stevenson.1  Our  earliest  edition  of  the  play  was  printed  in 
1575;  but  a  similar  play  called  "Dyccon  of  Bedlam"  was 
licensed  in  1552,  twelve  years  before  Shakespeare's  birth. 

To  show  the  spirit  and  the  metrical  form  of  the  play  we 
give  a  fragment  of  the  boy's  description  of  the  dullard  Hodge 
trying  to  light  a  fire  on  the  hearth  from  the  cat's  eyes,  and 
another  fragment  of  the  old  drinking  song  at  the  beginning  of 
the  second  act. 

At  last  in  a  dark  corner  two  sparkes  he  thought  he  sees 

Which  were,  indede,  nought  els  but  Gyb  our  cat's  two  eyes. 

"  Puffe  !  "  quod  Hodge,  thinking  therby  to  have  fyre  without  doubt ; 

With  that  Gyb  shut  her  two  eyes,  and  so  the  fyre  was  out. 

1  Schelling,  Elizabethan  Drama,  I,  86. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  125 

And  by-and-by  them  opened,  even  as  they  were  before ; 

With  that  the  sparkes  appeared,  even  as  they  had  done  of  yore 

And,  even  as  Hodge  blew  the  fire,  as  he  did  thincke, 

Gyb,  as  she  felt  the  blast,  strayght-way  began  to  wyncke, 

Tyll  Hodge  fell  of  swering,  as  came  best  to  his  turne, 

The  fier  was  sure  bewicht,  and  therfore  wold  not  burne. 

At  last  Gyb  up  the  stayers,  among  the  old  postes  and  pinnes, 

And  Hodge  he  hied  him  after  till  broke  were  both  his  shinnes, 

Cursynge  and  swering  othes,  were  never  of  his  makyng, 

That  Gyb  wold  fyre  the  house  if  that  shee  were  not  taken. 

Fyrste  a  Songe : 

Backe  and  syde,  go  bare,  go  bare  ; 

Booth  foote  and  hande,  go  colde ; 
But,  belly e,  God  sende  thee  good  ale  ynoughe. 

Whether  it  be  newe  or  olde  / 

I  can  not  eate  but  lytle  meate, 

My  stomacke  is  not  good  ; 
But  sure  I  thinke  that  I  can  dryncke 

With  him  that  weares  a  hood. 
Thoughe  I  go  bare,  take  ye  no  care, 

I  am  nothinge  a-colde, 
I  stuffe  my  skyn  so  full  within 

Of  ioly  good  ale  and  olde. 

Backe  and  syde,  go  bare,  etc. 

Our  first  tragedy,  "Gorboduc,"  was  written  by  Thomas 
Sackville  and  Thomas  Norton,  and  was  acted  in  1562,  only 
The  First  two  years  before  the  birth  of  Shakespeare.  It  is 
Tragedy  remarkable  not  only  as  our  first  tragedy,  but  as  the 
first  play  to  be  written  in  blank  verse,  the  latter  being  most 
significant,  since  it  started  the  drama  into  the  style  of  verse 
best  suited  to  the  genius  of  English  playwrights. 

The  story  of  "  Gorboduc  "  is  taken  from  the  early  annals  of  Britain  and 
recalls  the  story  used  by  Shakespeare  in  King  Lear.  Gorboduc,  king 
of  Britain,  divides  his  kingdom  between  his  sons  Ferrex  and  Porrex. 
The  sons  quarrel,  and  Porrex,  the  younger,  slays  his  brother,  who  is 
the  queen's  favorite.  Videna,  the  queen,  slays  Porrex  in  revenge  ;  the 
people  rebel  and  slay  Videna  and  Gorboduc  ;  then  the  nobles  kill  the 
rebels,  and  in  turn  fall  to  fighting  each  other.  The  line  of  Brutus  being 


126  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

extinct  with  the  death  of  Gorboduc,  the  country  falls  into  anarchy,  with 
rebels,  nobles,  and  a  Scottish  invader  all  fighting  for  the  right  of  succes- 
sion. The  curtain  falls  upon  a  scene  of  bloodshed  and  utter  confusion. 

The  artistic  finish  of  this  first  tragedy  is  marred  by  the 
authors'  evident  purpose  to  persuade  Elizabeth  to  marry.  It 
aims  to  show  the  danger  to  which  England  is  exposed  by  the 
uncertainty  of  succession.  Otherwise  the  plan  of  the  play 
follows  the  classical  rule  of  Seneca.  There  is  very  little  action 
on  the  stage ;  bloodshed  and  battle  are  announced  by  a 
messenger ;  and  the  chorus,  of  four  old  men  of  Britain,  sums 
up  the  situation  with  a  few  moral  observations  at  the  end  of 
each  of  the  first  four  acts. 

Classical  Influence  upon  the  Drama.  The  revival  of  Latin 
literature  had  a  decided  influence  upon  the  English  drama  as 
it  developed  from  the  Miracle  plays.  In  the  fifteenth  century 
English  teachers,  in  order  to  increase  the  interest  in  Latin, 
began  to  let  their  boys  act  the  plays  which  they  had  read  as 
literature,  precisely  as  our  colleges  now  present  Greek  or 
German  plays  at  the  yearly  festivals.  Seneca  was  the  favor- 
ite Latin  author,  and  all  his  tragedies  were  translated  into 
English  between  1559  and  1581.  This  was  the  exact  period 
in  which  the  first  English  playwrights  were  shaping  their  own 
ideas  ;  but  the  severe  simplicity  of  the  classical  drama  seemed 
at  first  only  to  hamper  the  exuberant  English  spirit.  To 
understand  this,  one  has  only  to  compare  a  tragedy  of  Seneca 
or  of  Euripides  with  one  of  Shakespeare,  and  see  how  widely 
the  two  masters  differ  in  methods. 

In  the  classic  play  the  so-called  dramatic  unities  of  time, 
place,  and  action  were  strictly  observed.  Time  and  place  must 
Dramatic  remain  the  same  ;  the  play  could  represent  a  period 
Unities  of  oniv  a  few  hours,  and  whatever  action  was  in- 
troduced must  take  place  at  the  spot  where  the  play  began. 
The  characters,  therefore,  must  remain  unchanged  through- 
out ;  there  was  no  possibility  of  the  child  becoming  a  man, 
or  of  the  man's  growth  with  changing  circumstances.  As  the 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  127 

play  was  within  doors,  all  vigorous  action  was  deemed  out  of 
place  on  the  stage,  and  battles  and  important  events  were 
simply  announced  by  a  messenger.  The  classic  drama  also 
drew  a  sharp  line  between  tragedy  and  comedy,  all  fun  being 
rigorously  excluded  from  serious  representations. 

The  English  drama,  on  the  other  hand,  strove  to  represent 
the  whole  sweep  of  life  in  a  single  play.  The  scene  changed 
rapidly;  the  same  actors  appeared  now  at  home,  now  at 
court,  now  on  the  battlefield ;  and  vigorous  action  filled  the 
stage  before  the  eyes  of  the  spectators.  The  child  of  one  act 
appeared  as  the  man  of  the  next,  and  the  imagination  of  the 
spectator  was  called  upon  to  bridge  the  gaps  from  place  to 
place  and  from  year  to  year.  So  the  dramatist  had  free  scope 
to  present  all  life  in  a  single  place  and  a  single  hour.  More- 
over, since  the  world  is  always  laughing  and  always  crying  at 
the  same  moment,  tragedy  and  comedy  were  presented  side  by 
side,  as  they  are  in  life  itself.  As  Hamlet  sings,  after  the  play 
that  amused  the  court  but  struck  the  king  with  deadly  fear : 

Why,  let  the  stricken  deer  go  weep, 

The  hart  ungalled  play  ; 

For  some  must  watch,  while  some  must  sleep : 

So  runs  the  world  away. 

Naturally,  with  these  two  ideals  struggling  to  master  the 
English  drama,  two  schools  of  writers  arose.  The  University 
Two  Schools  Wits,  as  men  of  learning  were  called,  generally 
of  Drama  upheld  the  classical  ideal,  and  ridiculed  the  crude- 
ness  of  the  new  English  plays.  Sackville  and  Norton  were 
of  this  class,  and  "Gorboduc  "  was  classic  in  its  construction. 
In  the  "Defense  of  Poesie  "  Sidney  upholds  the  classics  and 
ridicules  the  too  ambitious  scope  of  the  English  drama. 
Against  these  were  the  popular  playwrights,  Lyly,  Peele, 
Greene,  Marlowe,  and  many  others,  who  recognized  the  Eng- 
lish love  of  action  and  disregarded  the  dramatic  unities  in 
their  endeavor  to  present  life  as  it  is.  In  the  end  the  native 
drama  prevailed,  aided  by  the  popular  taste  which  had  been 


128  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

trained  by  four  centuries  of  Miracles.  Our  first  plays,  espe- 
cially of  the  romantic  type,  were  extremely  crude  and  often 
led  to  ridiculously  extravagant  scenes  ;  and  here  is  where  the 
classic  drama  exercised  an  immense  influence  for  good,  by  in- 
sisting upon  beauty  of  form  and  definiteness  of  structure  at 
a  time  when  the  tendency  was  to  satisfy  a  taste  for  stage 
spectacles  without  regard  to  either. 

In  the  year  1574  a  royal  permit  to  Lord  Leicester's  actors 

allowed  them  "  to  give  plays  anywhere  throughout  our  realm 

of  England,"  and  this  must  be  regarded  as  the 

The  Theater    .        .       .  r     .  .         ,  ^  . 

beginning  of  the  regular  drama.  Two  years  later 
the  first  playhouse,  known  as  "The  Theater,"  was  built  for 
these  actors  by  James  Burbage  in  Finsbury  Fields,  just  north 
of  London.  It  was  in  this  theater  that  Shakespeare  proba- 
bly found  employment  when  he  first  came  to  the  city.  The 
success  of  this  venture  was  immediate,  and  the  next  thirty 
years  saw  a  score  of  theatrical  companies,  at  least  seven  reg- 
ular theaters,  and  a  dozen  or  more  inn  yards  permanently 
fitted  for  the  giving  of  plays,  —  all  established  in  the  city 
and  its  immediate  suburbs.  The  growth  seems  all  the  more 
remarkable  when  we  remember  that  the  London  of  those 
days  would  now  be  considered  a  small  city,  having  (in  1600) 
only  about  a  hundred  thousand  inhabitants. 

A  Dutch  traveler,  Johannes  de  Witt,  who  visited  London 
in  1596,  has  given  us  the  only  contemporary  drawing  we 
possess  of  the  interior  of  one  of  these  theaters.  They  were 
built  of  stone  and  wood,  round  or  octagonal  in  shape,  and 
without  a  roof,  being  simply  an  inclosed  courtyard.  At  one 
side  was  the  stage,  and  before  it  on  the  bare  ground,  or  pit, 
stood  that  large  part  of  the  audience  who  could  afford  to  pay 
only  an  admission  fee.  The  players  and  these  groundlings 
were  exposed  to  the  weather ;  those  that  paid  for  seats  were 
in  galleries  sheltered  by  a  narrow  porch-roof  projecting  in- 
wards from  the  encircling  walls  ;  while  the  young  nobles  and 
gallants,  who  came  to  be  seen  and  who  could  afford  the  extra 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  129 

fee,  took  seats  on  the  stage  itself,  and  smoked  and  chaffed 
the  actors  and  threw  nuts  at  the  groundlings.1  The  whole 
idea  of  these  first  theaters,  according  to  De  Witt,  was  like 
that  of  the  Roman  amphitheater ;  and  the  resemblance  was 
heightened  by  the  fact  that,  when  no  play  was  on  the  boards, 
the  stage  might  be  taken  away  and  the  pit  given  over  to  bull 
and  bear  baiting. 

In  all  these  theaters,  probably,  the  stage  consisted  of  a 
bare  platform,  with  a  curtain  or  "  traverse  "  across  the  middle, 
separating  the  front  from  the  rear  stage.  On  the 
latter  unexpected  scenes  or  characters  were  "dis- 
covered "  by  simply  drawing  the  curtain  aside.  At  first  little 
or  no  scenery  was  used,  a  gilded  sign  being  the  only  announce- 
ment of  a  change  of  scene ;  and  this  very  lack  of  scenery  led 
to  better  acting,  since  the  actors  must  be  realistic  enough 
to  make  the  audience  forget  its  shabby  surroundings.2  By 
Shakespeare's  day,  however,  painted  scenery  had  appeared, 
first  at  university  plays,  and  then  in  the  regular  theaters.3 
In  all  our  first  plays  female  parts  were  taken  by  boy  actors, 
who  evidently  were  more  distressing  than  the  crude  scenery, 
for  contemporary  literature  has  many  satirical  references  to 
their  acting,4  and  even  the  tolerant  Shakespeare  writes : 

Some  squeaking  Cleopatra  boy  my  greatness. 

/ 

1  That  these  gallants  were  an  unmitigated  nuisance,  and  had  frequently  to  be 
silenced  by  the  common  people  who  came  to  enjoy  the  play,  seems  certain.    Dekker*s 
Gull's  Hornbook  (1609)  has  an  interesting  chapter  on  "  How  a  Gallant  should  behave 
Himself  in  a  Playhouse." 

2  The  first  actors  were  classed  with  thieves  and  vagabonds ;  but  they  speedily  raised 
their  profession  to  an  art  and  won  a  reputation  which  extended  far  abroad.    Thus  a  con- 
temporary, Fynes  Moryson,  writes  in  his  Itinerary :  "  So  I  remember  that  when  some 
of  our  cast  despised  stage  players  came  .  .  .  into  Germany  and  played  at  Franckford  .  .  . 
having  nether  a  complete  number  of  actors,  nor  any  good  aparell,  nor  any  ornament  of 
the  stage,  yet  the  Germans,  not  understanding  a  worde  they  sayde,  both  men  and  wemen, 
flocked  wonderfully  to  see  their  gesture  and  action." 

3  Schelling,  Elizabethan  Drama. 

4  Baker,  in  his  Development  of  Shakespeare  as  a  Dramatist,  pp.  57-62,  takes  a  differ- 
ent view,  and  shows  how  carefully  many  of  the  boy  actors  were  trained.  It  would  require, 
however,  a  vigorous  use  of  the  imagination  to  be  satisfied  with  a  boy's  presentation  of 
Portia,  Juliet,  Cordelia,  Rosalind,  or  any  other  of  Shakespeare's  wonderful  women. 


130  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

However  that  may  be,  the  stage  was  deemed  unfit  for 
women,  and  actresses  were  unknown  in  England  until  after 
the  Restoration. 

Shakespeare* s  Predecessors  in  the  Drama.  The  English 
drama  as  it  developed  from  the  Miracle  plays  has  an  inter- 
esting history.  It  began  with  schoolmasters,  like  Udall,  who 
translated  and  adapted  Latin  plays  for  their  boys  to  act,  and 
who  were  naturally  governed  by  classic  ideals.  It  was  con- 
tinued by  the  choir  masters  of  St.  Paul  and  the  Royal  and 
the  Queen's  Chapel,  whose  companies  of  choir-boy  actors 
were  famous  in  London  and  rivaled  the  players  of  the  regu- 
lar theaters.1  These  choir  masters  were  our  first  stage  man- 
agers. They  began  with  masques  and  interludes  and  the  dra- 
matic presentation  of  classic  myths  modeled  after  the  Italians ; 
but  some  of  them,  like  Richard  Edwards  (choir  master  of  the 
Queen's  Chapel  in  1 561),  soon  added  farces  from  English  coun- 
try life  and  dramatized  some  of  Chaucer's  stones.  Finally,  the 
regular  playwrights,  Kyd,  Nash,  Lyly,  Peele,  Greene,  and  Mar- 
lowe, brought  the  English  drama  to  the  point  where  Shake- 
speare began  to  experiment  upon  it. 

Each  of  these  playwrights  added  or  emphasized  some 
essential  element  in  the  drama,  which  appeared  later  in  the 
work  of  Shakespeare.  Thus  John  Lyly  (1554  ?-i6o6),  who  is 
now  known  chiefly  as  having  developed  the  pernicious  liter- 
ary style  called  euphuism,2  is  one  of  the  most  influential  of 
the  early  dramatists.  His  court  comedies  are  remarkable  for 
their  witty  dialogue  and  for  being  our  first  plays  to  aim 

1  These  choir  masters  had  royal  permits  to  take  boys  of  good  voice,  wherever  found, 
and  train  them  as  singers  and  actors.    The  boys  were  taken  from  their  parents  and  were 
often  half  starved  and  most  brutally  treated.    The  abuse  of  this  unnatural  privilege  led 
to  the  final  withdrawal  of  all  such  permits. 

2  So  called  from  Euphues,  the  hero  of  Lyly's  two  prose  works,  Euphues,  the  Anatomy 
of  Wit  (1579),  and  Euphues  and  his  England  (1580).    The  style  is  affected  and  over- 
elegant,  abounds  in  odd  conceits,  and  uses  hopelessly  involved  sentences.    It  is  found 
in  nearly  all  Elizabethan  prose  writers,  and  partially  accounts  for  their  general  tendency 
to  artificiality.    Shakespeare  satirizes  euphuism  in  the  character  of  Don  Adriano  of 
Love 's  Labour 's  Lost,  but  is  himself  tiresomely  euphuistic  at  times,  especially  in  his  early 
or  "  Lylian  "  comedies.   Lyly,  by  the  way,  did  not  invent  the  style,  but  did  more  than 
any  other  to  diffuse  it. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  131 

definitely  at  unity  and  artistic  finish.  Thomas  Kyd's  Spanish 
Tragedy  (c.  1585)  first  gives  us  the  drama,  or  rather  the 
melodrama,  of  passion,  copied  by  Marlowe  and  Shakespeare. 
This  was  the  most  popular  of  the  early  Elizabethan  plays ; 
it  was  revised  again  and  again,  and  Ben  Jonson  is  said  to 
have  written  one  version  and  to  have  acted  the  chief  part  of 
Hieronimo.1  And  Robert  Greene  (15 58?- 15 92)  plays  the 
chief  part  in  the  early  development  of  romantic  comedy,  and 
gives  us  some  excellent  scenes  of  English  country  life  in  plays 
like  Friar  Bacon  and  Friar  Bitngay. 

Even  a  brief  glance  at  the  life  and  work  of  these  first 
playwrights  shows  three  noteworthy  things  which  have  a 
f  bearing  on  Shakespeare's  career:  (i)  These  men 
the  Early  were  usually  actors  as  well  as  dramatists.  They 
Dramatists  knew  ^e  stage  and  the  audience,  and  in  writing 
their  plays  they  remembered  not  only  the  actor's  part  but  also 
the  audience's  love  for  stories  and  brave  spectacles.  "Will 
it  act  well,  and  will  it  please  our  audience,"  were  the  questions 
of  chief  concern  to  our  early  dramatists.  (2)  Their  training 
began  as  actors  ;  then  they  revised  old  plays,  and  finally  be- 
came independent  writers.  In  this  their  work  shows  an  exact 
parallel  with  that  of  Shakespeare.  (3)  They  often  worked 
together,  probably  as  Shakespeare  worked  with  Marlowe  and 
Fletcher,  either  in  revising  old  plays  or  in  creating  new  ones. 
They  had  a  common  store  of  material  from  which  they  derived 
their  stories  and  characters,  hence  their  frequent  repetition  of 
names ;  and  they  often  produced  two  or  more  plays  on  the 
same  subject.  Much  of  Shakespeare's  work  depends,  as  we 
shall  see,  on  previous  plays ;  and  even  his  Hamlet  uses  the 
material  of  an  earlier  play  of  the  same  name,  probably  by  Kyd, 
which  was  well  known  to  the  London  stage  in  1589,  some 
twelve  years  before  Shakespeare's  great  work  was  written. 

All  these  things  are  significant,  if  we  are  to  understand 
the  Elizabethan  drama  and  the  man  who  brought  it  to 

1  See  Schelling,  I,   211. 


132  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

perfection.  Shakespeare  was  not  simply  a  great  genius;  he 
was  also  a  great  worker,  and  he  developed  in  exactly  the  same 
way  as  did  all  his  fellow  craftsmen.  And,  contrary  to  the 
prevalent  opinion,  the  Elizabethan  drama  is  not  a  Minerva- 
like  creation,  springing  full  grown  from  the  head  of  one  man  ; 
it  is  rather  an  orderly  though  rapid  development,  in  which 
many  men  bore  a  part.  All  our  early  dramatists  are  worthy 
of  study  for  the  part  they  played  in  the  development  of  the 
drama  ;  but  we  can  here  consider  only  one,  the  most  typical  of 
all,  whose  best  work  is  often  ranked  with  that  of  Shakespeare. 

CHRISTOPHER  MARLOWE  (1564-1593) 

Marlowe  is  one  of  the  most  suggestive  figures  of  the  Eng- 
lish Renaissance,  and  the  greatest  of  Shakespeare's  prede- 
cessors. The  glory  of  the  Elizabethan  drama  dates  from  his 
Tamburlaine  (1587),  wherein  the  whole  restless  temper  of  the 
age  finds  expression : 

Nature,  that  framed  us  of  four  elements 
Warring  within  our  breasts  for  regiment, 
Doth  teach  us  all  to  have  aspiring  minds: 
Our  souls  —  whose  faculties  can  comprehend 
The  wondrous  architecture  of  the  world, 
And  measure  every  wandering  planet's  course, 
Still  climbing  after  knowledge  infinite, 
And  always  moving  as  the  restless  spheres  — 
Will  us  to  wear  ourselves  and  never  rest. 

Tamburlaine,  Pt.  I,  II,  vii. 

Life.  Marlowe  was  born  in  Canterbury,  only  a  few  months  before 
Shakespeare.  He  was  the  son  of  a  poor  shoemaker,  but  through  the 
kindness  of  a  patron  was  educated  at  the  town  grammar  school  and 
then  at  Cambridge.  When  he  came  to  London  (c.  1584),  his  soul 
was  surging  with  the  ideals  of  the  Renaissance,  which  later  found 
expression  in  Faustus,  the  scholar  longing  for  unlimited  knowledge 
and  for  power  to  grasp  the  universe.  Unfortunately,  Marlowe  had 
also  the  unbridled  passions  which  mark  the  early,  or  Pagan  Renais- 
sance, as  Taine  calls  it,  and  the  conceit  of  a  young  man  just  enter- 
ing the  realms  of  knowledge.  He  became  an  actor  and  lived  in  a 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  133 

low-tavern  atmosphere  of  excess  and  wretchedness.  In  1587,  when 
but  twenty-three  years  old,  he  produced  Tamburlaine,  which  brought 
him  instant  recognition.  Thereafter,  notwithstanding  his  wretched 
life,  he  holds  steadily  to  a  high  literary  purpose.  Though  all  his 
plays  abound  in  violence,  no  doubt  reflecting  many  of  the  violent 
scenes  in  which  he  lived,  he  develops  his  "  mighty  line  "  and  depicts 
great  scenes  in  magnificent  bursts  of  poetry,  such  as  the  stage  had 
never  heard  before.  In  five  years,  while  Shakespeare  was  serving 
his  apprenticeship,  Marlowe  produced  all  his  great  work.  Then  he 
was  stabbed  in  a  drunken  brawl  and  died  wretchedly,  as  he  had  lived. 
The  Epilogue  of  Faustus  might  be  written  across  his  tombstone  : 

Cut  is  the  branch  that  might  have  grown  full  straight, 

And  burned  is  Apollo's  laurel  bough 

That  sometime  grew  within  this  learned  man. 

Marlowe's  Works.  In  addition  to  the  poem  "Hero  and 
Leander,"  to  which  we  have  referred,1  Marlowe  is  famous 
for  four  dramas,  now  known  as  the  Marlowesque  or  one-man 
type  of  tragedy,  each  revolving  about  one  central  personality 
who  is  consumed  by  the  lust  of  power.  The  first  of  these  is 
Tamburlaine,  the  story  of  Timur  the  Tartar.  Timur  begins 
as  a  shepherd  chief,  who  first  rebels  and  then  triumphs  over 
the  Persian  king.  Intoxicated  by  his  success,  Timur  rushes 
like  a  tempest  over  the  whole  East.  Seated  on  his  chariot 
drawn  by  captive  kings,  with  a  caged  emperor  before  him,  he 
boasts  of  his  power  which  overrides  all  things.  Then,  afflicted 
with  disease,  he  raves  against  the  gods  an.d  would  overthrow 
them  as  he  has  overthrown  earthly  rulers.  Tamburlaine  is 
an  epic  rather  than  a  drama ;  but  one  can  understand  its 
instant  success  with  a  people  only  half  civilized,  fond  of  mili- 
tary glory,  and  the  instant  adoption  of  its  "mighty  line"  as 
the  instrument  of  all  dramatic  expression. 

Faustus,  the  second  play,  is  one  of  the  best  of  Marlowe's 
works.2  The  story  is  that  of  a  scholar  who  longs  for  infinite 

1  See  p.  114. 

2  In  1587  the  first  history  of  Johann  Faust,  a  half -legendary  German  necromancer, 
appeared  in  Frankfort.   Where  Marlowe  found  the  story  is  unknown ;  but  he  used  it,  as 
Goethe  did  two  centuries  later,  for  the  basis  of  his  great  tragedy. 


134  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

knowledge,  and  who  turns  from  Theology,  Philosophy,  Medi- 
cine, and  Law,  the  four  sciences  of  the  time,  to  the  study  of 

magic,  much  as  a  child  might  turn  from  jewels  to 
Faustus  .       , 

tinsel  and  colored  paper.    In  order  to  learn  magic 

he  sells  himself  to  the  devil,  on  condition  that  he  shall  have 
twenty-four  years  of  absolute  power  and  knowledge.  The  play 
is  the  story  of  those  twenty-four  years.  Like  Tamburlaine, 
it  is  lacking  in  dramatic  construction,1  but  has  an  unusual 
number  of  passages  of  rare  poetic  beauty.  Milton's  Satan  sug- 
gests strongly  that  the  author  of  Paradise  Lost  had  access  to 
Faustus  and  used  it,  as  he  may  also  have  used  Tamburlaine, 
for  the  magnificent  panorama  displayed  by  Satan  in  Paradise 
Regained.  For  instance,  more  than  fifty  years  before  Milton's 
hero  says,  "Which  way  I  turn  is  hell,  myself  am  hell,"  Mar- 
lowe had  written : 

Faust.         How  comes  it  then  that  thou  art  out  of  hell  ? 
Mephisto.    Why  this  is  hell,  nor  am  I  out  of  it. 

Hell  hath  no  limits,  nor  is  circumscribed 
In  one  self  place  ;  for  where  we  are  is  hell, 
And  where  hell  is  there  must  we  ever  be. 

Marlowe's  third  play  is  The  Jew  of  Malta,  a  study  of  the 
lust  for  wealth,  which  centers  about  Barabas,  a  terrible  old 
money  lender,  strongly  suggestive  of  Shylock  in  The  Merchant 
of  Venice.  The  first  part  of  the  play  is  well  constructed, 
showing  a  decided  advance,  but  the  last  part  is  an  accumu- 
lation of  melodramatic  horrors.  Barabas  is  checked  in  his 
murderous  career  by  falling  into  a  boiling  caldron  which  he 
had  prepared  for  another,  and  dies  blaspheming,  his  only 
regret  being  that  he  has  not  done  more  evil  in  his  life. 

Marlowe's  last  play  is  Edward  //,  a  tragic  study  of  a  king's 
weakness  and  misery.  In  point  of  style  and  dramatic  con- 
struction, it  is  by  far  the  best  of  Marlowe's  plays,  and  is  a 
worthy  predecessor  of  Shakespeare's  historical  drama. 

1  We  must  remember,  however,  that  our  present  version  of  Faustus  is  very  much 
mutilated,  and  does  not  preserve  the  play  as  Marlowe  wrote  it. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  135 

Marlowe  is  the  only  dramatist  of  the  time  who  is  ever 
compared  with  Shakespeare.1  When  we  remember  that  he 
Marlowe  and  died  at  twenty-nine,  probably  before  Shakespeare 
Shakespeare  nad  produced  a  single  great  play,  we  must  wonder 
what  he  might  have  done  had  he  outlived  his  wretched  youth 
and  become  a  man.  Here  and  there  his  work  is  remarkable 
for  its  splendid  imagination,  for  the  stateliness  of  its  verse, 
and  for  its  rare  bits  of  poetic  beauty  ;  but  in  dramatic  instinct, 
in  wide  knowledge  of  human  life,  in  humor,  in  delineation  of 
woman's  character,  in  the  delicate  fancy  which  presents  an 
Ariel  as  perfectly  as  a  Macbeth,  —  in  a  word,  in  all  that  makes 
a  dramatic  genius,  Shakespeare  stands  alone.  Marlowe  simply 
prepared  the  way  for  the  master  who  was  to  follow. 

Variety  of  the  Early  Drama.  The  thirty  years  between 
our  first  regular  English  plays  and  Shakespeare's  first  com- 
edy 2  witnessed  a  development  of  the  drama  which  astonishes 
us  both  by  its  rapidity  and  variety.  We  shall  better  appreci- 
ate Shakespeare's  work  if  we  glance  for  a  moment  at  the 
plays  that  preceded  him,  and  note  how  he  covers  the  whole 
field  and  writes  almost  every  form  and  variety  of  the  drama 
known  to  his  age. 

First  in  importance,  or  at  least  in  popular  interest,  are  the 
new  Chronicle  plays,  founded  upon  historical  events  and  char- 
Types  of  acters.  They  show  the  strong  national  spirit  of  the 
Drama  Elizabethan  Age,  and  their  popularity  was  due 

largely  to  the  fact  that  audiences  came  to  the  theaters 
partly  to  gratify  their  awakened  national  spirit  and  to  get 
their  first  knowledge  of  national  history.  Some  of  the  Moral- 
ities, like  Bayle's  King  Johan  (1538),  are  crude  Chronicle 
plays,  and  the  early  Robin  Hood  plays  and  the  first  trag- 
edy, Gorboduc,  show  the  same  awakened  popular  interest  in 

1  The  two  dramatists  may  have  worked  together  in  such  doubtful  plays  as  Richard 
III,  the  hero  of  which  is  like  Timur  in  an  English  dress,  and   Titus  Androniciis,  with 
its  violence  and  horror.    In  many  strong  scenes  in  Shakespeare's  works  Marlowe's  influ- 
ence is  manifest. 

2  Gammer  Garten's  Needle  appeared  c.  1562  ;  Lovers  Labour'1*  Lost,  c.  1591. 


136  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

English  history.  During  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  the  popular 
Chronicle  plays  increased  till  we  have  the  record  of  over  two 
hundred  and  twenty,  half  of  which  are  still  extant,  dealing 
with  almost  every  important  character,  real  or  legendary,  in 
English  history.  Of  Shakespeare's  thirty-seven  dramas,  ten 
are  true  Chronicle  plays  of  English  kings  ;  three  are  from 
the  legendary  annals  of  Britain  ;  and  three  more  are  from  the 
history  of  other  nations. 

Other  types  of  the  early  drama  are  less  clearly  defined, 
but  we  may  sum  them  up  under  a  few  general  heads  :  (i)  The 
Domestic  Drama  began  with  crude  home  scenes  introduced 
into  the  Miracles  and  developed  in  a  score  of  different  ways, 
from  the  coarse  humor  of  Gammer  Gurton 's  Needle  to  the 
Comedy  of  Manners  of  Jonson  and  the  later  dramatists. 
Shakespeare's  Taming  of  the  Shrew  and  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor  belong  to  this  class.  (2)  The  so-called  Court  Com- 
edy is  the  opposite  of  the  former  in  that  it  represented  a  dif- 
ferent kind  of  life  and  was  intended  for  a  different  audience. 
It  was  marked  by  elaborate  dialogue,  by  jests,  retorts,  and 
endless  plays  on  words,  rather  than  by  action.  It  was  made 
popular  by  Lyly's  success,  and  was  imitated  in  Shakespeare's 
first  or  "  Lylian  "comedies,  such  as  Love 's  Labour 's  Lost,  and 
the  complicated  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona.  (3)  Romantic 
Comedy  and  Romantic  Tragedy  suggest  the  most  artistic  and 
finished  types  of  the  drama,  which  were  experimented  upon 
by  Peele,  Greene,  and  Marlowe,  and  were  brought  to  perfec- 
tion in  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  Romeo  and  Juliet,  and  The 
Tempest.  (4)  In  addition  to  the  above  types  were  several 
others,  —  the  Classical  Plays,  modeled  upon  Seneca  and  fa- 
vored by  cultivated  audiences ;  the  Melodrama,  favorite  of 
the  groundlings,  which  depended  not  on  plot  or  characters 
but  upon  a  variety  of  striking  scenes  and  incidents ;  and  the 
Tragedy  of  Blood,  always  more  or  less  melodramatic,  like 
Kyd's  Spanish  Tragedy,  which  grew  more  blood-and-thundery 
in  Marlowe  and  reached  a  climax  of  horrors  in  Shakespeare's 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  137 

Titus  Andronicus.  It  is  noteworthy  that  Hamlet,  Lear,  and 
Macbeth  all  belong  to  this  class,  but  the  developed  genius  of 
the  author  raised  them  to  a  height  such  as  the  Tragedy  of 
Blood  had  never  known  before. 

These  varied  types  are  quite  enough  to  show  with  what 
doubtful  and  unguided  experiments  our  first  dramatists  were 
engaged,  like  men  first  setting  out  in  rafts  and  dugouts  on 
an  unknown  sea.  They  are  the  more  interesting  when  we 
remember  that  Shakespeare  tried  them  all ;  that  he  is  the 
only  dramatist  whose  plays  cover  the  whole  range  of  the 
drama  from  its  beginning  to  its  decline.  From  the  stage 
spectacle  he  developed  the  drama  of  human  life ;  and  instead 
of  the  doggerel  and  bombast  of  our  first  plays  he  gives  us  the 
poetry  of  Romeo  and  Juliet  and  Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 
In  a  word,  Shakespeare  brought  order  out  of  dramatic  chaos. 
In  a  few  short  years  he  raised  the  drama  from  a  blundering 
experiment  to  a  perfection  of  form  and  expression  which  has 
never  since  been  rivaled. 

IV.    SHAKESPEARE 

One  who  reads  a  few  of  Shakespeare's  great  plays  and 
then  the  meager  story  of  his  life  is  generally  filled  with  a 
The  Wonder  of  vague  wonder.  Here  is  an  unknown  country  boy, 
Shakespeare  pOor  and  poorly  educated  according  to  the  stand- 
ards of  his  age,  who  arrives  at  the  great  city  of  London  and 
goes  to  work  at  odd  jobs  in  a  theater.  In  a  year  or  two  he  is 
associated  with  scholars  and  dramatists,  the  masters  of  their 
age,  writing  plays  of  kings  and  clowns,  of  gentlemen  and 
heroes  and  noble  women,  all  of  whose  lives  he  seems  to  know 
by  intimate  association.  In  a  few  years  more  he  leads  all 
that  brilliant  group  of  poets  and  dramatists  who  have  given 
undying  glory  to  the  Age  of  Elizabeth.  Play  after  play  runs 
from  his  pen,  mighty  dramas  of  human  life  and  character 
following  one  another  so  rapidly  that  good  work  seems  im- 
possible ;  yet  they  stand  the  test  of  time,  and  their  poetry  is 


138 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


still  unrivaled  in  any  language.  For  all  this  great  work  the 
author  apparently  cares  little,  since  he  makes  no  attempt  to 
collect  or  preserve  his  writings.  A  thousand  scholars  have 
ever  since  been  busy  collecting,  identifying,  classifying  the 
works  which  this  magnificent  workman  tossed  aside  so  care- 

lessly when  he  aban- 
doned the  drama  and 
retired  to  his  native 
village.  He  has  a  mar- 
velously  imaginative 
and  creative  mind  ;  but 
he  invents  few,  if  any, 
new  plots  or  stories. 
He  simply  takes  an  old 
play  or  an  old  poem, 
makes  it  over  quickly, 
and  lo  !  this  old  familiar 
material  glows  with  the 
deepest  thoughts  and 
the  tenderest  feelings 
that  ennoble  our  hu- 
manity ;  and  each  new 
generation  of  men  finds 
it  more  wonderful  than  the  last.  How  did  he  do  it  ?  That  is 
still  an  unanswered  question  and  the  source  of  our  wonder. 

There  are,  in  general,  two  theories  to  account  for  Shake- 
speare.    The  romantic   school  of  writers  have  always  held 

that  m  ^m  "  a11  came  from  within";    that  his  gen- 

ius  Was  his  sufficient  guide  ;  and  that  to  the  over- 
mastering power  of  his  genius  alone  we  owe  all  his  great 
works.  Practical,  unimaginative  men,  on  the  other  hand, 
assert  that  in  Shakespeare  "all  came  from  without,"  and  that 
we  must  study  his  environment  rather  than  his  genius,  if  we 
are  to  understand  him.  He  lived  in  a  play-loving  age  ;  he 
studied  the  crowds,  gave  them  what  they  wanted,  and  simply 


WILLIAM   SHAKESPEARE 


Genius  or 
Training 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  139 

reflected  their  own  thoughts  and  feelings.  In  reflecting  the 
English  crowd  about  him  he  unconsciously  reflected  all  crowds, 
which  are  alike  in  all  ages  ;  hence  his  continued  popularity. 
And  in  being  guided  by  public  sentiment  he  was  not  singular, 
but  followed  the  plain  path  that  every  good  dramatist  has 
always  followed  to  success. 

Probably  the  truth  of  the  matter  is  to  be  found  somewhere 
between  these  two  extremes.  Of  his  great  genius  there  can 
be  no  question ;  but  there  are  other  things  to  consider.  As 
we  have  already  noticed,  Shakespeare  was  trained,  like  his 
fellow  workmen,  first  as  an  actor,  second  as  a  reviser  of  old 
plays,  and  last  as  an  independent  dramatist.  He  worked  with 
other  playwrights  and  learned  their  secret.  Like  them,  he 
studied  and  followed  the  public  taste,  and  his  work  indicates 
at  least  three  stages,  from  his  first  somewhat  crude  experi- 
ments to  his  finished  masterpieces.  So  it  would  seem  that  in 
Shakespeare  we  have  the  result  of  hard  work  and  of  orderly 
human  development,  quite  as  much  as  of  transcendent  genius. 

Life  (1564-1616).  Two  outward  influences  were  powerful  in 
developing  the  genius  of  Shakespeare,  —  the  little  village  of  Strat- 
ford, center  of  the  most  beautiful  and  romantic  district  in  rural 
England,  and  the  great  city  of  London,  the  center  of  the  world's 
political  activity.  In  one  he  learned  to  know  the  natural  man  in  his 
natural  environment ;  in  the  other,  the  social,  the  artificial  man  in 
the  most  unnatural  of  surroundings. 

From  the  register  of  the  little  parish  church  at  Stratford-on-Avon 
we  learn  that  William  Shakespeare  was  baptized  there  on  the  twenty- 
sixth  of  April,  1564  (old  style).  As  it  was  customary  to  baptize 
children  on  the  third  day  after  birth,  the  twenty-third  of  April 
(May  3,  according  to  our  present  calendar)  is  generally  accepted  as 
the  poet's  birthday. 

His  father,  John  Shakespeare,  was  a  farmer's  son  from  the  neigh- 
boring village  of  Snitterfield,  who  came  to  Stratford  about  1551,  and 
began  to  prosper  as  a  trader  in  corn,  meat,  leather,  and  other  agri- 
cultural products.  His  mother,  Mary  Arden,  was  the  daughter  of  a 
prosperous  farmer,  descended  from  an  old  Warwickshire  family  of 


140  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

mixed  Anglo-Saxon  and  Norman  blood.  In  1559  this  married  couple 
sold  a  piece  of  land,  and  the  document  is  signed,  "  The  marke  +  of 
John  Shacksper.  The  marke  +  of  Mary  Shacksper  "  ;  and  from  this 
it  has  been  generally  inferred  that,  like  the  vast  majority  of  their 
countrymen,  neither  of  the  poet's  parents  could  read  or  write.  This 
was  probably  true  of  his  mother ;  but  the  evidence  from  Stratford 
documents  now  indicates  that  his  father  could  write,  and  that  he 
also  audited  the  town  accounts;  though  in  attesting  documents  he 
sometimes  made  a  mark,  leaving  his  name  to  be  rilled  in  by  the  one 
who  drew  up  the  document. 

Of  Shakespeare's  education  we  know  little,  except  that  for  a  few 
years  he  probably  attended  the  endowed  grammar  school  at  Stratford, 
where  he  picked  up  the  "  small  Latin  and  less  Greek  "  to  which  his 
learned  friend  Ben  Jonson  refers.  His  real  teachers,  meanwhile, 
were  the  men  and  women  and  the  natural  influences  which  sur- 
rounded him.  Stratford  is  a  charming  little  village  in  beautiful  War- 
wickshire, and  near  at  hand  were  the  Forest  of  Arden,  the  old  castles 
of  Warwick  and  Kenilworth,  and  the  old  Roman  camps  and  military 
roads,  to  appeal  powerfully  to  the  boy's  lively  imagination.  Every 
phase  of  the  natural  beauty  of  this  exquisite  region  is  reflected  in 
Shakespeare's  poetry ;  just  as  his  characters  reflect  the  nobility  and 
the  littleness,  the  gossip,  vices,  emotions,  prejudices,  and  traditions 
of  the  people  about  him. 

I  saw  a  smith  stand  with  his  hammer,  thus, 
The  whilst  his  iron  did  on  the  anvil  cool, 
With  open  mouth  swallowing  a  tailor's  news ; 
Who,  with  his  shears  and  measure  in  his  hand, 
Standing  on  slippers,  which  his  nimble  haste 
Had  falsely  thrust  upon  contrary  feet, 
Told  of  a  many  thousand  warlike  French 
That  were  embattailed  and  ranked  in  Kent.1 

Such  passages  suggest  not  only  genius  but  also  a  keen,  sympathetic 
observer,  whose  eyes  see  every  significant  detail.  So  with  the  nurse 
in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  whose  endless  gossip  and  vulgarity  cannot  quite 
hide  a  kind  heart.  She  is  simply  the  reflection  of  some  forgotten 
nurse  with  whom  Shakespeare  had  talked  by  the  wayside. 

Not  only  the  gossip  but  also  the  dreams,  the  unconscious  poetry 
that  sleeps  in  the  heart  of  the  common  people,  appeal  tremendously 

l  King  John,  IV,  2. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  141 

to  Shakespeare's  imagination  and  are  reflected  in  his  greatest  plays. 
Othello  tries  to  tell  a  curt  soldier's  story  of  his  love  ;  but  the  account 
is  like  a  bit  of  Mandeville's  famous  travels,  teeming  with  the  fancies 
that  filled  men's  heads  when  the  great  round  world  was  first  brought 
to  their  attention  by  daring  explorers.  Here  is  a  bit  of  folklore, 
touched  by  Shakespeare's  exquisite  fancy,  which  shows  what  one  boy 
listened  to  before  the  fire  at  Halloween  : 

She  comes 

In  shape  no  bigger  than  an  agate-stone 
On  the  fore-finger  of  an  alderman, 
Drawn  with  a  team  of  little  atomies 
Athwart  men's  noses  as  they  lie  asleep ; 
Her  waggon-spokes  made  of  long  spinners'  legs, 
The  cover  of  the  wings  of  grasshoppers, 
The  traces  of  the  smallest  spider's  web, 
The  collars  of  the  moonshine's  watery  beams, 
Her  whip  of  cricket's  bone,  the  lash  of  film, 
Her  waggoner  a  small  grey-coated  gnat, 

Her  chariot  is  an  empty  hazel  nut 
Made  by  the  joiner  squirrel,  or  old  grub, 
Time  out  o'  mind  the  fairies'  coachmakers. 
And  in  this  state  she  gallops  night  by  night 
Through  lovers'  brains,  and  then  they  dream  of  love ; 

O'er  lawyers'  fingers,  who  straight  dream  on  fees, 
O'er  ladies'  lips,  who  straight  on  kisses  dream.1 

So  with  Shakespeare's  education  at  the  hands  of  Nature,  which 
came  from  keeping  his  heart  as  well  as  his  eyes  wide  open  to  the 
beauty  of  the  world.  He  speaks  of  a  horse,  and  we  know  the  fine 
points  of  a  thoroughbred ;  he  mentions  the  duke's  hounds,  and  we 
hear  them  clamoring  on  a  fox  trail,  their  voices  matched  like  bells 
in  the  frosty  air ;  he  stops  for  an  instant  in  the  sweep  of  a  tragedy 
to  note  a  flower,  a  star,  a  moonlit  bank,  a  hilltop  touched  by  the 
sunrise,  and  instantly  we  know  what  our  own  hearts  felt  but  could 
not  quite  express  when  we  saw  the  same  thing.  Because  he  notes 
and  remembers  every  significant  thing  in  the  changing  panorama  of 
earth  and  sky,  no  other  writer  has  ever  approached  him  in  the  per- 
fect natural  setting  of  his  characters. 

1  Queen  Mab,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet. 


142 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


When  Shakespeare  was  about  fourteen  years  old  his  father  lost 
his  little  property  and  fell  into  debt,  and  the  boy  probably  left 
school  to  help  support  the  family  of  younger  children.  What  occu- 
pation he  followed  for  the  next  eight  years  is  a  matter  of  conjecture. 
From  evidence  found  in  his  plays,  it  is  alleged  with  some  show  of 
authority  that  he  was  a  country  schoolmaster  and  a  lawyer's  clerk, 
the  character  of  Holof  ernes,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  being  the  war- 
rant for  one,  and  Shakespeare's  knowledge  of  law  terms  for  the 
other.  But  if  we  take  such  evidence,  then  Shakespeare  must  have 
been  a  botanist,  because  of  his  knowledge  of  wild  flowers ;  a  sailor, 


ANNE   HATHAWAY   COTTAGE 

because  he  knows  the  ropes  ;  a  courtier,  because  of  his  extraordinary 
facility  in  quips  and  compliments  and  courtly  language ;  a  clown, 
because  none  other  is  so  dull  and  foolish ;  a  king,  because  Richard 
and  Henry  are  true  to  life;  a  woman,  because  he  has  sounded  the 
depths  of  a  woman's  feelings  ;  and  surely  a  Roman,  because  in  Cori- 
olanus  and  Julius  Ccesar  he  has  shown  us  the  Roman  spirit  better 
than  have  the  Roman  writers  themselves.  He  was  everything,  in  his 
imagination,  and  it  is  impossible  from  a  study  of  his  scenes  and 
characters  to  form  a  definite  opinion  as  to  his  early  occupation. 

In  1582  Shakespeare  was  married  to  Anne  Hathaway,  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  peasant  family  of  Shottery,  who  was  eight  years  older  than 
her  boy  husband.  From  numerous  sarcastic  references  to  marriage 
made  by  the  characters  in  his  plays,  and  from  the  fact  that  he  soon 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  143 

left  his  wife  and  family  and  went  to  London,  it  is  generally  alleged 
that  the  marriage  was  a  hasty  and  unhappy  one  ;  but  here  again  the 
evidence  is  entirely  untrustworthy.  In  many  Miracles  as  well  as  in 
later  plays  it  was  customary  to  depict  the  seamy  side  of  domestic 
life  for  the  amusement  of  the  crowd;  and  Shakespeare  may  have 
followed  the  public  taste  in  this  as  he  did  in  other  things.  The  ref- 
erences to  love  and  home  and  quiet  joys  in  Shakespeare's  plays  are 
enough,  if  we  take  such  evidence,  to  establish  firmly  the  opposite 
supposition,  that  his  love  was  a  very  happy  one.  And  the  fact 
that,  after  his  enormous  success  in  London,  he  retired  to  Strat- 
ford to  live  quietly  with  his  wife  and  daughters,  tends  to  the  same 
conclusion. 

About  the  year  1587  Shakespeare  left  his  family  and  went  to 
London  and  joined  himself  to  Burbage's  company  of  players.  A  per- 
sistent tradition  says  that  he  had  incurred  the  anger  of  Sir  Thomas 
Lucy,  first  by  poaching  deer  in  that  nobleman's  park,  and  then, 
when  haled  before  a  magistrate,  by  writing  a  scurrilous  ballad  about 
Sir  Thomas,  which  so  aroused  the  old  gentleman's  ire  that  Shake- 
speare was  obliged  to  flee  the  country.  An  old  record  1  says  that 
the  poet  "was  much  given  to  all  unluckiness  in  stealing  venison 
and  rabbits,"  the  unluckiness  probably  consisting  in  getting  caught 
himself,  and  not  in  any  lack  of  luck  in  catching  the  rabbits.  The 
ridicule  heaped  upon  the  Lucy  family  in  Henry  IV  and  the  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor  gives  some  weight  to  this  tradition.  Nicholas 
Rowe,  who  published  the  first  life  of  Shakespeare,2  is  the  authority 
for  this  story ;  but  there  is  some  reason  to  doubt  whether,  at  the  time 
when  Shakespeare  is  said  to  have  poached  in  the  deer  park  of  Sir 
Thomas  Lucy  at  Charlescote,  there  were  any  deer  or  park  at  the 
place  referred  to.  The  subject  is  worthy  of  some  scant  attention,  if 
only  to  show  how  worthless  is  the  attempt  to  construct  out  of  rumor 
the  story  of  a  great  life  which,  fortunately  perhaps,  had  no  con- 
temporary biographer. 

Of  his  life  in  London  from  1587  to  1611,  the  period  of  his  great- 
est literary  activity,  we  know  nothing  definitely.  We  can  judge  only 
from  his  plays,  and  from  these  it  is  evident  that  he  entered  into  the 
stirring  life  of  England's  capital  with  the  same  perfect  sympathy  and 
understanding  that  marked  him  among  the  plain  people  of  his  native 
Warwickshire.  The  first  authentic  reference  to  him  is  in  1592,  when 

1  By  Archdeacon  Davies,  in  the  seventeenth  century. 

2  In  1709,  nearly  a  century  after  the  poet's  death. 


144  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Greene's l  bitter  attack  appeared,  showing  plainly  that  Shakespeare 
had  in  five  years  assumed  an  important  position  among  playwrights. 
Then  appeared  the  apology  of  the  publishers  of  Greene's  pamphlet, 
with  their  tribute  to  the  poet's  sterling  character,  and  occasional  lit- 
erary references  which  show  that  he  was  known  among  his  fellows 
as  "the  gentle  Shakespeare."  Ben  Jonson  says  of  him:  "I  loved 
the  man  and  do  honor  his  memory,  on  this  side  idolatry,  as  much  as 
any.  He  was  indeed  honest,  and  of  an  open  and  free  nature."  To 
judge  from  only  three  of  his  earliest  plays 2  it  would  seem  reasonably 
evident  that  in  the  first  five  years  of  his  London  life  he  had  gained 
entrance  to  the  society  of  gentlemen  and  scholars,  had  caught  their 
characteristic  mannerisms  and  expressions,  and  so  was  ready  by 
knowledge  and  observation  as  well  as  by  genius  to  weave  into  his 
dramas  the  whole  stirring  life  of  the  English  people.  The  plays 
themselves,  with  the  testimony  of  contemporaries  and  his  business 
success,  are  strong  evidence  against  the  tradition  that  his  life  in 
London  was  wild  and  dissolute,  like  that  of  the  typical  actor  and 
playwright  of  his  time. 

Shakespeare's  first  work  may  well  have  been  that  of  a  general 
helper,  an  odd-job  man,  about  the  theater ;  but  he  soon  became  an 
actor,  and  the  records  of  the  old  London  theaters  show  that  in  the 
next  ten  years  he  gained  a  prominent  place,  though  there  is  little 
reason  to  believe  that  he  was  counted  among  the  "  stars."  Within 
two  years  he  was  at  work  on  plays,  and  his  course  here  was  exactly 
like  that  of  other  playwrights  of  his  time.  He  worked  with  other 
men,  and  he  revised  old  plays  before  writing  his  own,  and  so  gained 
a  practical  knowledge  of  his  art.  Henry  VI  (c.  1590-1591)  is  an 
example  of  this  tinkering  work,  in  which,  however,  his  native  power 
is  unmistakably  manifest.  The  three  parts  of  Henry  VI  (and  Richard 
III,  which  belongs  with  them)  are  a  succession  of  scenes  from 
English  Chronicle  history  strung  together  very  loosely ;  and  only  in 
the  last  is  there  any  definite  attempt  at  unity.  That  he  soon  fell 
under  Marlowe's  influence  is  evident  from  the  atrocities  and  bom- 
bast of  Titus  Androni&us  and  Richard  III.  The  former  may  have 
been  written  by  both  playwrights  in  collaboration,  or  may  be  one  of 

1  Robert  Greene,  one  of  the  popular  playwrights  of  the  time,  who  attacked  Shake- 
speare in  a  pamphlet  called  "A  Groat's  Worth  of  Wit  Bought  with  a  Million  of  Repent- 
ance."   The  pamphlet,  aside  from  its  jealousy  of  Shakespeare,  is  a  sad  picture  of  a  man  of 
genius  dying  of  dissipation,  and  contains  a  warning  to  other  playwrights  of  the  time, 
whose  lives  were  apparently  almost  as  bad  as  that  of  Greene. 

2  Love's  Labour  's  Lost,  Comedy  of  Errors,  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH 


145 


Marlowe's  horrors  left  unfinished  by  his  early  death  and  brought  to 
an  end  by  Shakespeare.  He  soon  broke  away  from  this  apprentice 
work,  and  then  appeared  in  rapid  succession  Love 's  Labour 's  Lost, 
Comedy  of  Errors,  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  the  first  English  Chron- 
icle plays,1  A  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream,  and  Romeo  and  Juliet. 
This  order  is  more  or  less  conjectural ;  but  the  wide  variety  of  these 
plays,  as  well  as  their  unevenness  and  frequent  crudities,  marks 
the  first  or  experimental  stage  of  Shakespeare's  work.  It  is  as  if  the 


BIRTHPLACE  OF   SHAKESPEARE 

author  were  trying  his  power,  or  more  likely  trying  the  temper  of  his 
audience.  For  it  must  be  remembered  that  to  please  his  audience 
was  probably  the  ruling  motive  of  Shakespeare,  as  of  the  other  early 
dramatists,  during  the  most  vigorous  and  prolific  period  of  his  career. 
Shakespeare's  poems,  rather  than  his  dramatic  work,  mark  the 
beginning  of  his  success.  "  Venus  and  Adonis  "  became  immensely 

1  Henry  VI,  Richard  III,  Richard  77,  King  John.  Prior  to  1588  only  three  true 
Chronicle  plays  are  known  to  have  been  acted.  The  defeat  of  the  Armada  in  that  year 
led  to  an  outburst  of  national  feeling  which  found  one  outlet  in  the  theaters,  and  in  the 
next  ten  years  over  eighty  Chronicle  plays  appeared.  Of  these  Shakespeare  furnished 
nine  or  ten.  It  was  the  great  popular  success  of  Henry  VI,  a  revision  of  an  old  play,  in 
1592  that  probably  led  to  Greene's  jealous  attack. 


146  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

popular  in  London,  and  its  dedication  to  the  Earl  of  Southampton 
brought,  according  to  tradition,  a  substantial  money  gift,  which  may 
have  laid  the  foundation  for  Shakespeare's  business  success.  He 
appears  to  have  shrewdly  invested  his  money,  and  soon  became 
part  owner  of  the  Globe  and  Blackfriars  theaters,  in  which  his  plays 
were  presented  by  his  own  companies.  His  success  and  popularity 
grew  amazingly.  Within  a  decade  of  his  unnoticed  arrival  in  London 
he  was  one  of  the  most  famous  actors  and  literary  men  in  England. 

Following  his  experimental  work  there  came  a  succession  of  won- 
derful plays,  —  Merchant  of  Venice,  As  You  Like  It,  Twelfth  Night, 
Julius  Ccesar,  Hamlet,  Macbeth,  Othello,  King  Lear,  Antony  and 
Cleopatra,  The  great  tragedies  of  this  period  are  associated  with  a 
period  of  gloom  and  sorrow  in  the  poet's  life ;  but  of  its  cause  we 
have  no  knowledge.  It  may  have  been  this  unknown  sorrow  which 
turned  his  thoughts  back  to  Stratford  and  caused,  apparently,  a  dis- 
satisfaction with  his  work  and  profession  ;  but  the  latter  is  generally 
attributed  to  other  causes.  Actors  and  playwrights  were  in  his  day 
generally  looked  upon  with  suspicion  or  contempt ;  and  Shakespeare, 
even  in  the  midst  of  success,  seems  to  have  looked  forward  to  the 
time  when  he  could  retire  to  Stratford  to  live  the  life  of  a  farmer 
and  country  gentleman.  His  own  and  his  father's  families  were  first 
released  from  debt ;  then,  in  1597,  he  bought  New  Place,  the  finest 
house  in  Stratford,  and  soon  added  a  tract  of  farming  land  to  com- 
plete his  estate.  His  profession  may  have  prevented  his  acquiring 
the  title  of  "gentleman,"  or  he  may  have  only  followed  a  custom  of 
the  time x  when  he  applied  for  and  obtained  a  coat  of  arms  for  his 
father,  and  so  indirectly  secured  the  title  by  inheritance.  His  home 
visits  grew  more  and  more  frequent  till,  about  the  year  1 6 1 1 ,  he  left 
London  and  retired  permanently  to  Stratford. 

Though  still  in  the  prime  of  life,  Shakespeare  soon  abandoned  his 
dramatic  work  for  the  comfortable  life  of  a  country  gentleman.  Of 
his  later  plays,  Coriolanus,  Cymbeline,  Winter's  Tale,  and  Pericles 
show  a  decided  falling  off  from  his  previous  work,  and  indicate 
another  period  of  experimentation;  this  time  not  to  test  his  own 
powers  but  to  catch  the  fickle  humor  of  the  public.  As  is  usually 
the  case  with  a  theater-going  people,  they  soon  turned  from  serious 
drama  to  sentimental  or  more  questionable  spectacles  ;  and  with 
Fletcher,  who  worked  with  Shakespeare  and  succeeded  him  as  the 

1  See  Lee's  Life  of  William  Shakespeare,  pp.  188-196. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH 


first  playwright  of  London,  the  decline  of  the  drama  had  already 
begun.  In  1609,  however,  occurred  an  event  which  gave  Shake- 
speare his  chance  for  a  farewell  to  the  public.  An  English  ship 
disappeared,  and  all  on  board  were  given  up  for  lost.  A  year  later 
the  sailors  returned  home,  and  their  arrival  created  intense  excite- 
ment. They  had  been  wrecked  on  the  unknown  Bermudas,  and 


TRINITY  CHURCH,  STRATFORD-ON-AVON 

had  lived  there  for  ten  months,  terrified  by  mysterious  noises  which 
they  thought  came  from  spirits  and  devils.  Five  different  accounts 
of  this  fascinating  shipwreck  were  published,  and  the  Bermudas 
became  known  as  the  "  lie  of  Divels."  Shakespeare  took  this  story 
—  which  caused  as  much  popular  interest  as  that  later  shipwreck 
which  gave  us  Robinson  Crusoe  —  and  wove  it  into  The  Tempest. 
In  the  same  year  (1611)  he  probably  sold  his  interest  in  the 
Globe  and  Blackfriars  theaters,  and  his  dramatic  work  was  ended. 


148  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

A  few  plays  were  probably  left  unfinished1  and  were  turned  over 
to  Fletcher  and  other  dramatists. 

That  Shakespeare  thought  little  of  his  success  and  had  no  idea 
that  his  dramas  were  the  greatest  that  the  world  ever  produced 
seems  evident  from  the  fact  that  he  made  no  attempt  to  collect  or 
publish  his  works,  or  even  to  save  his  manuscripts,  which  were  care- 
lessly left  to  stage  managers  of  the  theaters,  and  so  found  their  way 
ultimately  to  the  ragman.  After  a  few  years  of  quiet  life,  of  which 
we  have  less  record  than  of  hundreds  of  simple  country  gentlemen 
of  the  time,  Shakespeare  died  on  the  probable  anniversary  of  his 
birth,  April  23,  1616.  He  was  given  a  tomb  in  the  chancel  of  the 
parish  church,  not  because  of  his  preeminence  in  literature,  but 
because  of  his  interest  in  the  affairs  of  a  country  village.  And  in  the 
sad  irony  of  fate,  the  broad  stone  that  covered  his  tomb  —  now  an 
object  of  veneration  to  the  thousands  that  yearly  visit  the  little 
church  —  was  inscribed  as  follows  : 

Good  friend,  for  Jesus'  sake  forbeare 
To  dig  the  dust  enclosed  heare  ; 
Bleste  be  the  man  that  spares  these  stones, 
And  curst  be  he  that  moves  my  bones. 

This  wretched  doggerel,  over  the  world's  greatest  poet,  was  intended, 
no  doubt,  as  a  warning  to  some  stupid  sexton,  lest  he  should  empty 
the  grave  and  give  the  honored  place  to  some  amiable  gentleman 
who  had  given  more  tithes  to  the  parish. 

Works  of  Shakespeare.  At  the  time  of  Shakespeare's  death 
twenty-one  plays  existed  in  manuscripts  in  the  various  theaters. 
A  few  others  had  already  been  printed  in  quarto  form,  and 
the  latter  are  the  only  publications  that  could  possibly  have 
met  with  the  poet's  own  approval.  More  probably  they  were 
taken  down  in  shorthand  by  some  listener  at  the  play  and  then 
"pirated"  by  some  publisher  for  his  own  profit.  The  first 
printed  collection  of  his  plays,  now  called  the  First  Folio 
(1623),  was  made  by  two  actors,  Heming  and  Condell,  who 
asserted  that  they  had  access  to  the  papers  of  the  poet  and 
had  made  a  perfect  edition,  "  in  order  to  keep  the  memory  of 
so  worthy  a  friend  and  fellow  alive."  This  contains  thirty-six 

1  Like  Henry  VIII,  and  possibly  the  lost  Cardenio. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  149 

of  the  thirty-seven  plays  generally  attributed  to  Shakespeare, 
Pericles  being  omitted.  This  celebrated  First  Folio  was  printed 
from  playhouse  manuscripts  and  from  printed  quartos  contain- 
ing many  notes  and  changes  by  individual  actors  and  stage 
managers.  Moreover,  it  was  full  of  typographical  errors,  though 
the  editors  alleged  great  care  and  accuracy  ;  and  so,  though  it 
is  the  only  authoritative  edition  we  have,  it  is  of  little  value 
in  determining  the  dates,  or  the  classification  of  the  plays  as 
they  existed  in  Shakespeare's  mind. 

Notwithstanding  this  uncertainty,  a  careful  reading  of  the 
plays  and  poems  leaves  us  with  an  impression  of  four  differ- 
ent periods  of  work,  probably  corresponding  with 
Four  Periods     ,  ,  .  r  J,  ,     vr      %, 

the  growth  and  experience  of  the  poet  s  life.   These 

are :  (i)  a  period  of  early  experimentation.  It  is  marked  by 
youthfulness  and  exuberance  of  imagination,  by  extravagance 
of  language,  and  by  the  frequent  use  of  rimed  couplets  with 
his  blank  verse.  The  period  dates  from  his  arrival  in  London 
to  1595.  Typical  works  of  this  first  period  are  his  early 
poems,  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  and 
Richard  III.  (2)  A  period  of  rapid  growth  and  development, 
from  1595  to  1600.  Such  plays  as  The  Merchant  of  Venice, 
Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  As  You,  Like  It,  and  Henry  IV, 
all  written  in  this  period,  show  more  careful  and  artistic 
work,  better  plots,  and  a  marked  increase  in  knowledge  of 
human  nature.  (3)  A  period  of  gloom  and  depression,  from 
1600  to  1607,  which  marks  the  full  maturity  of  his  powers. 
What  caused  this  evident  sadness  is  unknown ;  but  it  is  gen- 
erally attributed  to  some  personal  experience,  coupled  with 
the  political  misfortunes  of  his  friends,  Essex  and  Southamp- 
ton. The  Sonnets  with  their  note  of  personal  disappointment, 
Twelfth  Night,  which  is  Shakespeare's  "farewell  to  mirth," 
and  his  great  tragedies,  Hamlet,  Lear,  Macbeth,  Othello,  and 
Julius  Ccesar,  belong  to  this  period.  (4)  A  period  of  restored 
serenity,  of  calm  after  storm,  which  marked  the  last  years  of 
the  poet's  literary  work.  The  Winter's  Tale  and  The  Tempest 


T50  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

are  the  best  of  his  later  plays  ;  but  they  all  show  a  falling  off 
from  his  previous  work,  and  indicate  a  second  period  of  experi- 
mentation with  the  taste  of  a  fickle  public. 

To  read  in  succession  four  plays,  taking  a  typical  work 
from  each  of  the  above  periods,  is  one  of  the  very  best  ways 
of  getting  quickly  at  the  real  life  and  mind  of  Shakespeare. 
Following  is  a  complete  list  with  the  approximate  dates  of  his 
works,  classified  according  to  the  above  four  periods. 

FIRST  PERIOD,  EARLY  EXPERIMENT.  Venus  and  Adonis,  Rape  of 
Lucrece,  1594  ;  Titus  Andronicus,  Henry  VI  (three  parts),  1590-1591  ; 
Lovers  Labour  ^s  Lost,  1590;  Comedy  of  Errors,  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verona,  1591-1592  ;  Richard  III,  1593  ;  Richard  II,  King  John,  1594- 

1595- 

SECOND  PERIOD,  DEVELOPMENT.  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream,  1595  ;  Merchant  of  Venice,  Henry  IV  (first  part),  1596  ; 
Henry  IV  (second  part),  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  1597  ;  Much  Ado 
About  Nothing,  1598  ;  As  You  Like  It,  Henry  V,  1599. 

THIRD  PERIOD,  MATURITY  AND  GLOOM.  Sonnets  (1600-  ?),  Twelfth 
Night,  1600  ;  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Julius  Casar,  Hamlet,  Troilus  and 
Cressida,  1601-1602  ;  All's  Well  That  Ends  Well,  Measure  for  Meas- 
ure, 1603;  Othello,  1604;  King  Lear,  1605;  Macbeth,  1606;  Antony 
and  Cleopatra,  Timon  of  Athens,  1607. 

FOURTH  PERIOD,  LATE  EXPERIMENT.  Coriolanus,  Pericles,  1608 ; 
Cymbeline,  1609;  Winter's  Tale,  1610-1611;  The  Tempest,  1611; 
Henry  VIII  (unfinished). 

Classification  according  to  Source.  In  history,  legend,  and 
story,  Shakespeare  found  the  material  for  nearly  all  his  dramas ; 
and  so  they  are  often  divided  into  three  classes,  called  histor- 
ical plays,  like  Richard  III and  Henry  V;  legendary  or  partly 
historical  plays,  like  Macbeth,  King  Lear,  and  Julius  Ccesar  ; 
and  fictional  plays,  like  Romeo  and  Juliet  and  The  Merchant 
of  Venice.  Shakespeare  invented  few,  if  any,  of  the  plots  or 
stories  upon  which  his  dramas  are  founded,  but  borrowed 
them  freely,  after  the  custom  of  his  age,  wherever  he  found 
them.  For  his  legendary  and  historical  material  he  depended 
largely  on  Ho  Unshed 's  Chronicles  of  England,  Scotland,  and 
Ireland,  and  on  North's  translation  of  Plutarch's  famous  Lives. 


Property  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art 


PORTIA 
After  the  portrait  by  John  Everett  Millais 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  151 

A  full  half  of  his  plays  are  fictional,  and  in  these  he  used  the 
most  popular  romances  of  the  day,  seeming  to  depend  most 
on  the  Italian  story-tellers.  Only  two  or  three  of  his  plots,  as 
in  Love's  Labour  's  Lost  and  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor -,  are 
said  to  be  original,  and  even  these  are  doubtful.  Occasionally 
Shakespeare  made  over  an  older  play,  as  in  Henry  VI,  Comedy 
of  Errors,  and  Hamlet ;  and  in  one  instance  at  least  he  seized 
upon  an  incident  of  shipwreck  in  which  London  was  greatly 
interested,  and  made  out  of  it  the  original  and  fascinating 
play  of  The  Tempest,  in  much  the  same  spirit  which  leads  our 
modern  playwrights  when  they  dramatize  a  popular  novel  or 
a  war  story  to  catch  the  public  fancy. 

Classification  according  to  Dramatic  Type.  Shakespeare's 
dramas  are  usually  divided  into  three  classes,  called  tragedies, 
comedies,  and  historical  plays.  Strictly  speaking  the  drama 
has  but  two  divisions,  tragedy  and  comedy,  in  which  are 
included  the  many  subordinate  forms  of  tragi-comedy,  melo- 
drama, lyric  drama  ( opera ),  farce,  etc.  A  tragedy  is  a  drama 
in  which  the  principal  characters  are  involved  in  desperate 
circumstances  or  led  by  overwhelming  passions.  It  is  inva- 
riably serious  and  dignified.  The  movement  is  always  stately, 
but  grows  more  and  more  rapid  as  it  approaches  the  climax ; 
and  the  end  is  always  calamitous,  resulting  in  death  or  dire 
misfortune  to  the  principals.  As  Chaucer's  monk  says, 
before  he  begins  to  "biwayle  in  maner  of  tragedie": 

Tragedie  is  to  seyn  a  certeyn  storie 
Of  him  that  stood  in  great  prosperitee, 
And  is  y-fallen  out  of  heigh  degree 
Into  miserie,  and  endeth  wrecchedly. 

A  comedy,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  drama  in  which  the  char- 
acters are  placed  in  more  or  less  humorous  situations.  The 
movement  is  light  and  often  mirthful,  and  the  play  ends  in 
general  good  will  and  happiness.  The  historical  drama  aims 
to  present  some  historical  age  or  character,  and  may  be 
either  a  comedy  or  a  tragedy.  The  following  list  includes 


152  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  best  of  Shakespeare's  plays  in  each  of  the  three  classes ; 
but  the  order  indicates  merely  the  author's  personal  opinion 
of  the  relative  merits  of  the  plays  in  each  class.  Thus  Mer- 
chant of  Venice  would  be  the  first  of  the  comedies  for  the 
beginner  to  read,  and  Julius  Ccesar  is  an  excellent  introduc- 
tion to  the  historical  plays  and  the  tragedies. 

COMEDIES.  Merchant  of  Venice,  Midsummer  Nights  Dream,  As 
You  Like  It,  Winter's  Tale,  The  Tempest,  Twelfth  Night. 

TRAGEDIES.  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Macbeth,  Hamlet,  King  Lear, 
Othello. 

HISTORICAL  PLAYS.  Julius  Ccesar,  Richard  III,  Henry  IV,  Henry  V, 
Coriolanus,  Antony  and  Cleopatra. 

Doubtful  Plays.  It  is  reasonably  certain  that  some  of  the 
plays  generally  attributed  to  Shakespeare  are  partly  the  work 
of  other  dramatists.  The  first  of  these  doubtful  plays,  often 
called  the  Pre-Shakespearian  Group,  are  Titus  Andronicus  and 
the  first  part  of  Henry  VI.  Shakespeare  probably  worked  with 
Marlowe  in  the  two  last  parts  of  Henry  F7and  in  Richard  III. 
The  three  plays,  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Timon,  and  Pericles 
are  only  partly  Shakespeare's  work,  but  the  other  authors  are 
unknown.  Henry  VIII  is  the  work  of  Fletcher  and  Shake- 
speare, opinion  being  divided  as  to  whether  Shakespeare 
helped  Fletcher,  or  whether  it  was  an  unfinished  work  of 
Shakespeare  which  was  put  into  Fletcher's  hands  for  com- 
pletion. Two  Noble  Kinsmen  is  a  play  not  ordinarily  found 
in  editions  of  Shakespeare,  but  it  is  often  placed  among  his 
doubtful  works.  The  greater  part  of  the  play  is  undoubtedly 
by  Fletcher.  Edward  III  is  one  of  several  crude  plays  pub- 
lished at  first  anonymously  and  later  attributed  to  Shakespeare 
by  publishers  who  desired  to  sell  their  wares.  It  contains  a  few 
passages  that  strongly  suggest  Shakespeare  ;  but  the  external 
evidence  is  all  against  his  authorship. 

Shakespeare's  Poems.  It  is  generally  asserted  that,  if 
Shakespeare  had  written  no  plays,  his  poems  alone  would 
have  given  him  a  commanding  place  in  the  Elizabethan  Age. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  153 

Nevertheless,  in  the  various  histories  of  our  literature  there 
is  apparent  a  desire  to  praise  and  pass  over  all  but  the  Sonnets 
as  rapidly  as  possible ;  and  the  reason  may  be  stated  frankly. 
His  two  long  poems,  "Venus  and  Adonis"  and  "The  Rape 
of  Lucrece,"  contain  much  poetic  fancy ;  but  it  must  be  said 
of  both  that  the  subjects  are  unpleasant,  and  that  they  are 
dragged  out  to  unnecessary  length  in  order  to  show  the  play 
of  youthful  imagination.  They  were  extremely  popular  in 
Shakespeare's  day,  but  in  comparison  with  his  great  dramatic 
works  these  poems  are  now  of  minor  importance. 

Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  one  hundred  and  fifty-four  in  num- 
ber, are  the  only  direct  expression  of  the  poet's  own  feelings 
that  we  possess  ;  for  his  plays  are  the  most  impersonal  in  all 
literature.  They  were  published  together  in  1609  ;  but  if  they 
had  any  unity  in  Shakespeare's  mind,  their  plan  and  purpose 
are  hard  to  discover.  By  some  critics  they  are  regarded  as 
mere  literary  exercises ;  by  others  as  the  expression  of  some 
personal  grief  during  the  third  period  of  the  poet's  literary 
career.  Still  others,  taking  a  hint  from  the  sonnet  beginning 
"Two  loves  I  have,  of  comfort  and  despair,"  divide  them  all 
into  two  classes,  addressed  to  a  man  who  was  Shakespeare's 
friend,  and  to  a  woman  who  disdained  his  love.  The  reader 
may  well  avoid  such  classifications  and  read  a  few  sonnets, 
like  the  twenty-ninth,  for  instance,  and  let  them  speak  their 
own  message.  A  few  are  trivial  and  artificial  enough,  sug- 
gesting the  elaborate  exercises  of  a  piano  player ;  but  the 
majority  are  remarkable  for  their  subtle  thought  and  exquisite 
expression.  Here  and  there  is  one,  like  that  beginning 

When  to  the  sessions  of  sweet  silent  thought 
I  summon  up  remembrance  of  things  past, 

which  will  haunt  the  reader  long  afterwards,  like  the  remem- 
brance of  an  old  German  melody. 

Shakespeare's  Place  and  Influence.  Shakespeare  holds,  by 
general  acclamation,  the  foremost  place  in  the  world's  litera- 
ture, and  his  overwhelming  greatness  renders  it  difficult  to 


154  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

criticise  or  even  to  praise  him.  Two  poets  only,  Homer  and 
Dante,  have  been  named  with  him  ;  but  each  of  these  wrote 
within  narrow  limits,  while  Shakespeare's  genius  included  all 
the  world  of  nature  and  of  men.  In  a  word,  he  is  the  uni- 
versal poet.  To  study  nature  in  his  works  is  like  exploring  a 
new  and  beautiful  country ;  to  study  man  in  his  works  is  like 
going  into  a  great  city,  viewing  the  motley  crowd  as  one  views 
a  great  masquerade  in  which  past  and  present  mingle  freely 
and  familiarly,  as  if  the  dead  were  all  living  again.  And  the 
marvelous  thing,  in  this  masquerade  of  all  sorts  and  condi- 
tions of  men,  is  that  Shakespeare  lifts  the  mask  from  every 
face,  lets  us  see  the  man  as  he  is  in  his  own  soul,  and  shows 
us  in  each  one  some  germ  of  good,  some  "soul  of  goodness  " 
even  in  things  evil.  For  Shakespeare  strikes  no  uncertain 
note,  and  raises  no  doubts  to  add  to  the  burden  of  your  own. 
Good  always  overcomes  evil  in  the  long  run ;  and  love,  faith, 
work,  and  duty  are  the  four  elements  that  in  all  ages  make 
the  world  right.  To  criticise  or  praise  the  genius  that  creates 
these  men  and  women  is  to  criticise  or  praise  humanity  itself. 
Of  his  influence  in  literature  it  is  equally  difficult  to  speak. 
Goethe  expresses  the  common  literary  judgment  when  he 
says,  "  I  do  not  remember  that  any  book  or  person  or  event 
in  my  life  ever  made  so  great  an  impression  upon  me  as  the 
plays  of  Shakespeare."  His  influence  upon  our  own  language 
and  thought  is  beyond  calculation.  Shakespeare  and  the  King 
James  Bible  are  the  two  great  conservators  of  the  English 
speech ;  and  one  who  habitually  reads  them  finds  himself 
possessed  of  a  style  and  vocabulary  that  are  beyond  criticism. 
Even  those  who  read  no  Shakespeare  are  still  unconsciously 
guided  by  him,  for  his  thought  and  expression  have  so  per- 
vaded our  life  and  literature  that  it  is  impossible,  so  long  as 
one  speaks  the  English  language,  to  escape  his  influence. 

His  life  was  gentle,  and  the  elements 

So  mixed  in  him,  that  Nature  might  stand  up 

And  say  to  all  the  world,  "  This  was  a  man  I " 


AMERICAN   MEMORIAL  WINDOW  IN  THE  CHURCH  OF  THE  HOLV 
TRINITY,  STRATFORD-ON-AVON 


156  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

V.   SHAKESPEARE'S  CONTEMPORARIES  AND 
SUCCESSORS   IN  THE  DRAMA 

Decline  of  the  Drama.  It  was  inevitable  that  the  drama 
should  decline  after  Shakespeare,  for  the  simple  reason  that 
there  was  no  other  great  enough  to  fill  his  place.  Aside  from 
this,  other  causes  were  at  work,  and  the  chief  of  these  was 
at  the  very  source  of  the  Elizabethan  dramas.  It  must  be 
remembered  that  our  first  playwrights  wrote  to  please  their 
audiences ;  that  the  drama  rose  in  England  because  of  the 
desire  of  a  patriotic  people  to  see  something  of  the  stirring 
life  of  the  times  reflected  on  the  stage.  For  there  were  no 
papers  or  magazines  in  those  days,  and  people  came  to  the 
theaters  not  only  to  be  amused  but  to  be  informed.  Like 
children,  they  wanted  to  see  a  story  acted ;  and  like  men,  they 
wanted  to  know  what  it  meant.  Shakespeare  fulfilled  their 
desire.  He  gave  them  their  story,  and  his  genius  was  great 
enough  to  show  in  every  play  not  only  their  own  life  and 
passions  but  something  of  the  meaning  of  all  life,  and  of  that 
eternal  justice  which  uses  the  war  of  human  passions  for  its 
own  great  ends.  Thus  good  and  evil  mingle  freely  in  his 
dramas ;  but  the  evil  is  never  attractive,  and  the  good  triumphs 
as  inevitably  as  fate.  Though  his  language  is  sometimes  coarse, 
we  are  to  remember  that  it  was  the  custom  of  his  age  to  speak 
somewhat  coarsely,  and  that  in  language,  as  in  thought  and 
feeling,  Shakespeare  is  far  above  most  of  his  contemporaries. 

With  his  successors  all  this  was  changed.  The  audience 
itself  had  gradually  changed,  and  in  place  of  plain  people 
eager  for  a  story  and  for  information,  we  see  a  larger  and 
larger  proportion  of  those  who  went  to  the  play  because  they 
had  nothing  else  to  do.  They  wanted  amusement  only,  and 
since  they  had  blunted  by  idleness  the  desire  for  simple 
and  wholesome  amusement,  they  called  for  something  more 
sensational.  Shakespeare's  successors  catered  to  the  de- 
praved tastes  of  this  new  audience.  They  lacked  not  only 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  157 

Shakespeare's  genius,  but  his  broad  charity,  his  moral  insight 
into  life.  With  the  exception  of  Ben  Jonson,  they  neglected 
the  simple  fact  that  man  in  his  deepest  nature  is  a  moral  being, 
and  that  only  a  play  which  satisfies  the  whole  nature  of  man 
by  showing  the  triumph  of  the  moral  law  can  ever  wholly 
satisfy  an  audience  or  a  people.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
forgetting  the  deep  meaning  of  life,  strove  for  effect  by  in- 
creasing the  sensationalism  of  their  plays ;  Webster  reveled 
in  tragedies  of  blood  and  thunder ;  Massinger  and  Ford  made 
another  step  downward,  producing  evil  and  licentious  scenes 
for  their  own  sake,  making  characters  and  situations  more 
immoral  till,  notwithstanding  these  dramatists'  ability,  the 
stage  had  become  insincere,  frivolous,  and  bad.  Ben  Jonson's 
ode,  "Come  Leave  the  Loathed  Stage,"  is  the  judgment  of  a 
large  and  honest  nature  grown  weary  of  the  plays  and  the 
players  of  the  time.  We  read  with  a  sense  of  relief  that 
in  1642,  only  twenty-six  years  after  Shakespeare's  death, 
both  houses  of  Parliament  voted  to  close  the  theaters  as 
breeders  of  lies  and  immorality. 

BEN  JONSON  (i573?-i637) 

Personally  Jonson  is  the  most  commanding  literary  figure 
among  the  Elizabethans.  For  twenty-five  years  he  was  .the 
literary  dictator  of  London,  the  chief  of  all  the  wits  that 
gathered  nightly  at  the  old  Devil  Tavern.  With  his  great 
learning,  his  ability,  and  his  commanding  position  as  poet 
laureate,  he  set  himself  squarely  against  his  contemporaries 
and  the  romantic  tendency  of  the  age.  For  two  things  he 
fought  bravely,  —  to  restore  the  classic  form  of  the  drama, 
and  to  keep  the  stage  from  its  downward  course.  Apparently 
he  failed  ;  the  romantic  school  fixed  its  hold  more  strongly 
than  ever ;  the  stage  went  swif  tiy  to  an  end  as  sad  as  that 
of  the  early  dramatists.  Nevertheless  his  influence  lived  and 
grew  more  powerful  till,  aided  largely  by  French  influence,  it 
resulted  in  the  so-called  classicism  of  the  eighteenth  century. 


158  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Life.  Jonson  was  born  at  Westminster  about  the  year  1573. 
His  father,  an  educated  gentleman,  had  his  property  confiscated 
and  was  himself  thrown  into  prison  by  Queen  Mary ;  so  we  infer 
the  family  was  of  some  prominence.  From  his  mother  he  received 
certain  strong  characteristics,  and  by  a  single  short  reference  in 
Jonson's  works  we  are  led  to  see  the  kind  of  woman  she  was.  It  is 
while  Jonson  is  telling  Drummond  of  the  occasion  when  he  was 
thrown  into  prison,  because  some  passages  in  the  comedy  of  East- 
ward Ho  !  gave  offense  to  King  James,  and  he  was  in  danger  of  a 

horrible  death,  after  having 
his  ears  and  nose  cut  off. 
He  tells  us  how,  after  his 
pardon,  he  was  banqueting 
with  his  friends,  when  his 
"old  mother"  came  in 
and  showed  a  paper  full 
of  "lusty  strong  poison," 
which  she  intended  to  mix 
with  his  drink  just  before 
the  execution.  And  to 
show  that  she  "was  no 
churl,"  she  intended  first 
to  drink  of  the  poison  her- 
self. The  incident  is  all 
the  more  suggestive  from 

BEN  JONSON  the  fact  that  Chapman  and 

Marston,  one  his  friend  and 

the  other  his  enemy,  were  first  cast  into  prison  as  the  authors  of 
Eastward  Ho  !  and  rough  Ben  Jonson  at  once  declared  that  he  too 
had  had  a  small  hand  in  the  writing  and  went  to  join  them  in  prison. 
Jonson's  father  came  out  of  prison,  having  given  up  his  estate,  and 
became  a  minister.  He  died  just  before  the  son's  birth,  and  two 
years  later  the  mother  married  a  bricklayer  of  London.  The  boy 
was  sent  to  a  private  school,  and  later  made  his  own  way  to  West- 
minster School,  where  the  submaster,  Camden,  struck  by  the  boy's 
ability,  taught  and  largely  supported  him.  For  a  short  time  he  may 
have  studied  at  the  university  in  Cambridge ;  but  his  stepfather 
soon  set  him  to  learning  the  bricklayer's  trade.  He  ran  away  from 
this,  and  went  with  the  English  army  to  fight  Spaniards  in  the  Low 
Countries.  His  best  known  exploit  there  was  to  fight  a  duel  between 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  159 

the  lines  with  one  of  the  enemy's  soldiers,  while  both  armies 
looked  on.  Jonson  killed  his  man,  and  took  his  arms,  and  made  his 
way  back  to  his  own  lines  in  a  way  to  delight  the  old  Norman 
troubadours.  He  soon  returned  to  England,  and  married  precipi- 
tately when  only  nineteen  or  twenty  years  old.  Five  years  later  we 
find  him  employed,  like  Shakespeare,  as  actor  and  reviser  of  old 
plays  in  the  theater.  Thereafter  his  life  is  a  varied  and  stormy  one. 
He  killed  an  actor  in  a  duel,  and  only  escaped  hanging  by  pleading 
"  benefit  of  clergy  " l ;  but  he  lost  all  his  poor  goods  and  was  branded 
for  life  on  his  left  thumb.  In  his  first  great  play,  Every  Man  in  His 
Humour  (1598),  Shakespeare  acted  one  of  the  parts  ;  and  that  may 
have  been  the  beginning  of  their  long  friendship.  Other  plays  fol- 
lowed rapidly.  Upon  the  accession  of  James,  Jonson's  masques  won 
him  royal  favor,  and  he  was  made  poet  laureate.  He  now  became 
undoubted  leader  of  the  literary  men  of  his  time,  though  his  rough 
honesty  and  his  hatred  of  the  literary  tendencies  of  the  age  made 
him  quarrel  with  nearly  all  of  them.  In  1616,  soon  after  Shake- 
speare's retirement,  he  stopped  writing  for  the  stage  and  gave  him- 
self up  to  study  and  serious  work.  In  1618  he  traveled  on  foot  to 
Scotland,  where  he  visited  Drummond,  from  whom  we  have  the  scant 
records  of  his  varied  life.  His  impressions  of  this  journey,  called 
Foot  Pilgrimage,  were  lost  in  a  fire  before  publication.  Thereafter 
he  produced  less,  and  his  work  declined  in  vigor;  but  spite  of  growing 
poverty  and  infirmity  we  notice  in  his  later  work,  especially  in  the 
unfinished  Sad  Shepherd,  a  certain  mellowness  and  tender  human 
sympathy  which  were  lacking  in  his  earlier  productions.  He  died 
poverty  stricken  in  1637.  Unlike  Shakespeare's,  his  death  was 
mourned  as  a  national  calamity,  and  he  was  buried  with  all  honor  in 
Westminster  Abbey.  On  his  grave  was  laid  a  marble  slab,  on  which 
the  words  "  O  rare  Ben  Jonson  "  were  his  sufficient  epitaph. 

Works  of  Ben  Jonson.  Jonson's  work  is  in  strong  con- 
trast with  that  of  Shakespeare  and  of  the  later  Elizabethan 
dramatists.  Alone  he  fought  against  the  romantic  tendency 
of  the  age,  and  to  restore  the  classic  standards.  Thus  the 
whole  action  of  his  drama  usually  covers  only  a  few  hours,  or 

1  A  name  given  to  the  privilege  —  claimed  by  the  mediaeval  Church  for  its  clergy  —  of 
being  exempt  from  trial  by  the  regular  law  courts.  After  the  Reformation  the  custom 
survived  for  a  long  time,  and  special  privileges  were  allowed  to  ministers  and  their 
families.  Jonson  claimed  the  privilege  as  a  minister's  son. 


160  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

a  single  day.  He  never  takes  liberties  with  historical  facts, 
as  Shakespeare  does,  but  is  accurate  to  the  smallest  detail. 
His  dramas  abound  in  classical  learning,  are  carefully  and 
logically  constructed,  and  comedy  and  tragedy  are  kept  apart, 
instead  of  crowding  each  other  as  they  do  in  Shakespeare 
and  in  life.  In  one  respect  his  comedies  are  worthy  of  care- 
ful reading, —  they  are  intensely  realistic,  presenting  men 
and  women  of  the  time  exactly  as  they  were.  From  a  few 
of  Jonson's  scenes  we  can  understand  —  better  than  from  all 
the  plays  of  Shakespeare  — how  men  talked  and  acted  during 
the  Age  of  Elizabeth. 

Jonson's  first  comedy,  Every  Man  in  His  Humour,  is  a  key 
to  all  his  dramas.  The  word  "humour"  in  his  age  stood  for 
Every  Man  in  some  characteristic  whim  or  quality  of  society. 
His  Humour  Jonson  gives  to  his  leading  character  some  prom- 
inent humor,  exaggerates  it,  as  the  cartoonist  enlarges  the 
most  characteristic  feature  of  a  face,  and  so  holds  it  before  our 
attention  that  all  other  qualities  are  lost  sight  of ;  which  is 
the  method  that  Dickens  used  later  in  many  of  his  novels. 
Every  Man  in  His  Humour  was  the  first  of  three  satires. 
Its  special  aim  was  to  ridicule  the  humors  of  the  city.  The 
second,  Cynthia's  Revels,  satirizes  the  humors  of  the  court ; 
while  the  third,  The  Poetaster,  the  result  of  a  quarrel  with 
his  contemporaries,  was  leveled  at  the  false  standards  of  the 
poets  of  the  age. 

The  three  best  known  of  Jonson's  comedies  are  Volpone, 
or  the  Fox,  The  Alchemist,  and  Epiccene,  or  the  Silent  Woman. 
Volpone  is  a  keen  and  merciless  analysis  of  a  man  governed 
by  an  overwhelming  love  of  money  for  its  own  sake.  The 
first  words  in  the  first  scene  are  a  key  to  the  whole  comedy : 

(Volpone) 

Good  morning  to  the  day  ;  and  next,  my  gold  ! 
Open  the  shrine  that  I  may  see  my  saint. 

{Mosca  withdraws  a  curtain  and  discovers  piles  of 

gold,  plate,  jewels,  etc.} 
Hail  the  world's  soul,  and  mine ! 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  161 

Volpone's  method  of  increasing  his  wealth  is  to  play  upon  the 
avarice  of  men.  He  pretends  to  be  at  the  point  of  death,  and 
his  "suitors,"  who  know  his  love  of  gain  and  that  he  has  no 
heirs,  endeavor  hypocritically  to  sweeten  his  last  moments 
by  giving  him  rich  presents,  so  that  he  will  leave  them  all  his 
wealth.  The  intrigues  of  these  suitors  furnish  the  story  of 
the  play,  and  show  to  what  infamous  depths  avarice  will  lead 
a  man. 

The  Alchemist  is  a  study  of  quackery  on  one  side  and  of 
gullibility  on  the  other,  founded  on  the  mediaeval  idea  of  the 
philosopher's  stone,1  and  applies  as  well  to  the  patent  medi- 
cines and  get-rich-quick  schemes  of  our  day  as  to  the  pecul- 
iar forms  of  quackery  with  which  Jonson  was  more  familiar. 
In  plot  and  artistic  construction  The  Alchemist  is  an  almost 
perfect  specimen  of  the  best  English  drama.  It  has  some 
remarkably  good  passages,  and  is  the  most  readable  of  Jon- 
son's  plays. 

Epiccene,  or  the  Silent  Woman,  is  a  prose  comedy  exceedingly 
well  constructed,  full  of  life,  abounding  in  fun  and  unexpected 
situations.  Here  is  a  brief  outline  from  which  the  reader  may 
see  of  what  materials  Jonson  made  up  his  comedies. 

The  chief  character  is  Morose,  a  rich  old  codger  whose  humor  is  a 
horror  of  noise.  He  lives  in  a  street  so  narrow  that  it  will  admit  no 
The  Silent  carriages  ;  he  pads  the  doors  ;  plugs  the  keyhole  ;  puts  mat- 
Woman  tresses  on  the  stairs.  He  dismisses  a  servant  who  wears 
squeaky  boots  ;  makes  all  the  rest  go  about  in  thick  stockings ;  and 
they  must  answer  him  by  signs,  since  he  cannot  bear  to  hear  anybody 
but  himself  talk.  He  disinherits  his  poor  nephew  Eugenie,  and,  to  make 
sure  that  the  latter  will  not  get  any  money  out  of  him,  resolves  to  marry. 
His  confidant  in  this  delicate  matter  is  Cutbeard  the  barber,  who,  unlike 
his  kind,  never  speaks  unless  spoken  to,  and  does  not  even  knick  his 
scissors  as  he  works.  Cutbeard  (who  is  secretly  in  league  with  the 
nephew)  tells  him  of  Epiccene,  a  rare,  silent  woman,  and  Morose  is  so 
delighted  with  her  silence  that  he  resolves  to  marry  her  on  the  spot. 
Cutbeard  produces  a  parson  with  a  bad  cold,  who  can  speak  only  in  a 
whisper,  to  marry  them  ;  and  when  the  parson  coughs  after  the  ceremony 

1  A  similar  story  of  quackery  is  found  in  Chaucer,  "  The  Canon's  Yeoman's  Tale." 


162  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Morose  demands  back  five  shillings  of  the  fee.  To  save  it  the  parson 
coughs  more,  and  is  hurriedly  bundled  out  of  the  house.  The  silent 
woman  finds  her  voice  immediately  after  the  marriage,  begins  to  talk 
loudly  and  to  make  reforms  in  the  household,  driving  Morose  to  distrac- 
tion. A  noisy  dinner  party  from  a  neighboring  house,  with  drums  and 
trumpets  and  a  quarreling  man  and  wife,  is  skillfully  guided  in  at  this 
moment  to  celebrate  the  wedding.  Morose  flees  for  his  life,  and  is 
found  perched  like  a  monkey  on  a  crossbeam  in  the  attic,  with  all  his 
nightcaps  tied  over  his  ears.  He  seeks  a  divorce,  but  is  driven  frantic 
by  the  loud  arguments  of  a  lawyer  and  a  divine,  who  are  no  other  than 
Cutbeard  and  a  sea  captain  disguised.  When  Morose  is  past  all  hope 
the  nephew  offers  to  release  him  from  his  wife  and  her  noisy  friends  if 
he  will  allow  him  five  hundred  pounds  a  year.  Morose  offers  him  any- 
thing, everything,  to  escape  his  torment,  and  signs  a  deed  to  that  effect. 
Then  comes  the  surprise  of  the  play  when  Eugenie  whips  the  wig  from 
Epiccene  and  shows  a  boy  in  disguise. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  Silent  Woman,  with  its  rapid 
action  and  its  unexpected  situations,  offers  an  excellent 
opportunity  for  the  actors ;  but  the  reading  of  the  play,  as 
of  most  of  Jonson' s  comedies,  is  marred  by  low  intrigues 
showing  a  sad  state  of  morals  among  the  upper  classes. 

Besides  these,  and  many  other  less  known  comedies,  Jonson 
wrote  two  great  tragedies,  Sejamis  (1603 )  and  Catiline  ( 161 1), 
upon  severe  classical  lines.  After  ceasing  his  work  for  the 
stage,  Jonson  wrote  many  masques  in  honor  of  James  I  and 
of  Queen  Anne,  to  be  played  amid  elaborate  scenery  by  the 
gentlemen  of  the  court.  The  best  of  these  are  "  The  Satyr," 
"  The  Penates,"  "Masque  of  Blackness,"  "Masque  of  Beauty," 
"Hue  and  Cry  after  Cupid,"  and  "The  Masque  of  Queens." 
In  all  his  plays  Jonson  showed  a  strong  lyric  gift,  and  some 
of  his  little  poems  and  songs,  like  "The  Triumph  of  Charis," 
"Drink  to  Me  Only  with  Thine  Eyes,"  and  "To  the  Mem- 
ory of  my  Beloved  Mother,"  are  now  better  known  than  his 
great  dramatic  works.  A  single  volume  of  prose,  called  Tim- 
ber, or  Discoveries  made  upon  Men  and  Matter,  is  an  inter- 
esting collection  of  short  essays  which  are  more  like  Bacon's 
than  any  other  work  of  the  age. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  163 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher.  The  work  of  these  two  men  is  so 
closely  interwoven  that,  though  Fletcher  outlived  Beaumont 
by  nine  years  and  the  latter  had  no  hand  in  some  forty  of  the 
plays  that  bear  their  joint  names,  we  still  class  them  together, 
and  only  scholars  attempt  to  separate  their  works  so  as  to 
give  each  writer  his  due  share.  Unlike  most  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan dramatists,  they  both  came  from  noble  and  cultured 
families  and  were  university  trained.  Their  work,  in  strong 
contrast  with  Jonson's,  is  intensely  romantic,  and  in  it  all, 
however  coarse  or  brutal  the  scene,  there  is  still,  as  Emerson 
pointed  out,  the  subtle  "  recognition  of  gentility." 

Beaumont  (1584-1616)  was  the  brother  of  Sir  John  Beau- 
mont of  Leicestershire.  From  Oxford  he  came  to  London  to 
study  law,  but  soon  gave  it  up  to  write  for  the  stage.  Fletcher 
(i  579- 1625)  was  the  son  of  the  bishop  of  London,  and  shows 
in  all  his  work  the  influence  of  his  high  social  position  and  of 
his  Cambridge  education.  The  two  dramatists  met  at  the 
Mermaid  tavern  under  Ben  Jonson's  leadership  and  soon 
became  inseparable  friends,  living  and  working  together. 
Tradition  has  it  that  Beaumont  supplied  the  judgment  and 
the  solid  work  of  the  play,  while  Fletcher  furnished  the 
high-colored  sentiment  and  the  lyric  poetry,  without  which 
an  Elizabethan  play  would  have  been  incomplete.  Of  their 
joint  plays,  the  two  best  known  are  Philaster^  whose  old 
theme,  like  that  of  Cymbeline  and  Griselda,  is  the  jealousy 
of  a  lover  and  the  faithfulness  of  a  girl,  and  The  Maid's 
Tragedy.  Concerning  Fletcher's  work  the  most  interesting 
literary  question  is  how  much  did  he  write  of  Shakespeare's 
Henry  VIII,  and  how  much  did  Shakespeare  help  him  in 
The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen, 

John  Webster.  Of  Webster's  personal  history  we  know 
nothing  except  that  he  was  well  known  as  a  dramatist  under 
James  I.  His  extraordinary  powers  of  expression  rank  him 
•with  Shakespeare ;  but  his  talent  seems  to  have  been  largely 
devoted  to  the  blood-and-thunder  play  begun  by  Marlowe. 


164  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

His  two  best  known  plays  are  The  White  Devil  (pub.  1612) 
and  The  Duchess  of  Malfi  (pub.  1623).  The  latter,  spite  of 
its  horrors,  ranks  him  as  one  of  the  greatest  masters  of 
English  tragedy.  It  must  be  remembered  that  he  sought  in 
this  play  to  reproduce  the  Italian  life  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  and  for  this  no  imaginary  horrors  are  needed.  The 
history  of  any  Italian  court  or  city  in  this  period  furnishes 
more  vice  and  violence  and  dishonor  than  even  the  gloomy 
imagination  of  Webster  could  conceive.  All  the  so-called 
blood  tragedies  of  the  Elizabethan  period,  from  Thomas  Kyd's 
Spanish  Tragedy  down,  however  much  they  may  condemn  the 
brutal  taste  of  the  English  audiences,  are  still  only  so  many 
search  lights  thrown  upon  a  history  of  horrible  darkness. 

Thomas  Middleton  (1570  P-I62/).  Middleton  is  best 
known  by  two  great  plays,  The  Changeling^-  and  Women  Be- 
ware Women.  In  poetry  and  diction  they  are  almost  worthy 
at  times  to  rank  with  Shakespeare's  plays ;  otherwise,  in 
their  sensationalism  and  unnaturalness  they  do  violence  to 
the  moral  sense  and  are  repulsive  to  the  modern  reader. 
Two  earlier  plays,  A  Trick  to  catch  the  Old  One,  his  best 
comedy,  and  A  Fair  Quarrel,  his  earliest  tragedy,  are  less 
mature  in  thought  and  expression,  but  more  readable,  because 
they  seem  to  express  Middleton' s  own  idea  of  the  drama 
rather  than  that  of  the  corrupt  court  and  playwrights  of  his 
later  age. 

Thomas  Heywood  ( 1580  ?- 1650  ?).  Heywood's  life,  of 
which  we  know  little  in  detail,  covers  the  whole  period  of 
the  Elizabethan  drama.  To  the  glory  of  that  drama  he  con- 
tributed, according  to  his  own  statement,  the  greater  part,  at 
least,  of  nearly  two  hundred  and  twenty  plays.  It  was  an 
enormous  amount  of  work ;  but  he  seems  to  have  been  ani- 
mated by  the  modern  literary  spirit  of  following  the  best 
market  and  striking  while  the  financial  iron  is  hot.  Naturally 

1  In  this  and  in  A  Fair  Quarrel  Middleton  collaborated  with  William  Rowley,  of 
whpm  little  is  known  except  that  he  was  an  actor  from  c.  1607-1627. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  165 

good  work  was  impossible,  even  to  genius,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, and  few  of  his  plays  are  now  known.  The  two 
best,  if  the  reader  would  obtain  his  own  idea  of  Heywood's 
undoubted  ability,  are  A  Woman  killed  with  Kindness,  a 
pathetic  story  of  domestic  life,  and  The  Fair  Maid  of  the 
West,  a  melodrama  with  plenty  of  fighting  of  the  popular  kind. 

Thomas  Dekker  (1570-?).  Dekker  is  in  pleasing  contrast 
with  most  of  the  dramatists  of  the  time.  All  we  know  of  him 
must  be  inferred  from  his  works,  which  show  a  happy  and 
sunny  nature,  pleasant  and  good  to  meet.  The  reader  will 
find  the  best  expression  of  Dekker' s  personality  and  erratic 
genius  in  The  Shoemakers'  Holiday,  a  humorous  study  of 
plain  working  people,  and  Old  Fortunatus,  a  fairy  drama  of 
the  wishing  hat  and  no  end  of  money.  Whether  intended 
for  children  or  not,  it  had  the  effect  of  charming  the  elders 
far  more  than  the  young  people,  and  the  play  became  im- 
mensely popular. 

Massinger,  Ford,  Shirley.  These  three  men  mark  the  end 
of  the  Elizabethan  drama.  Their  work,  done  largely  while 
the  struggle  was  on  between  the  actors  and  the  corrupt 
court,  on  one  side,  and  the  Puritans  on  the  other,  shows  a 
deliberate  turning  away  not  only  from  Puritan  standards 
but  from  the  high  ideals  of  their  own  art  to  pander  to  the 
corrupt  taste  of  the  upper  classes. 

Philip  Massinger  (1584—1640)  was  a  dramatic  poet  of 
great  natural  ability ;  but  his  plots  and  situations  are  usually 
so  strained  and  artificial  that  the  modern  reader  finds  no 
interest  in  them.  In  his  best  comedy,  A  New  Way  to  Pay 
Old  Debts,  he  achieved  great  popularity  and  gave  us  one 
figure,  Sir  Giles  Overreach,  which  is  one  of  the  typical 
characters  of  the  English  stage.  His  best  plays  are  The 
Great  Duke  of  Florence,  The  Virgin  Martyr,  and  The  Maid 
of  Honour. 

John  Ford  (1586-1642  ?)  and  James  Shirley  (1596-1666) 
have  left  us  little  of  permanent  literary  value,  and  their  works 


1 66  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

are  read  only  by  those  who  wish  to  understand  the  whole 
rise  and  fall  of  the  drama.  An  occasional  scene  in  Ford's 
plays  is  as  strong  as  anything  that  the  Elizabethan  Age  pro- 
duced ;  but  as  a  whole  the  plays  are  unnatural  and  tiresome. 
Probably  his  best  play  is  The  Broken  Heart  (1633).  Shirley 
was  given  to  imitation  of  his  predecessors,  and  his  very  imita- 
tion is  characteristic  of  an  age  which  had  lost  its  inspiration. 
A  single  play,  Hyde  Park,  with  its  frivolous,  realistic  dialogue, 
is  sometimes  read  for  its  reflection  of  the  fashionable  gossipy 
talk  of  the  day.  Long  before  Shirley's  death  the  actors  said, 
"Farewell !  Othello's  occupation's  gone."  Parliament  voted 
to  close  the  theaters,  thereby  saving  the  drama  from  a  more 
inglorious  death  by  dissipation.1 

VI.    THE  PROSE  WRITERS 
FRANCIS  BACON  (1561-1626) 

In  Bacon  we  see  one  of  those  complex  and  contradictory 
natures  which  are  the  despair  of  the  biographer.  If  the 
writer  be  an  admirer  of  Bacon,  he  finds  too  much  that  he 
must  excuse  or  pass  over  in  silence ;  and  if  he  takes  his 
stand  on'  the  law  to  condemn  the  avarice  and  dishonesty  of 
his  subject,  he  finds  enough  moral  courage  and  nobility  to 
make  him  question  the  justice  of  his  own  judgment.  On  the 
one  hand  is  rugged  Ben  Jonson's  tribute  to  his  power  and 
ability,  and  on  the  other  Hallam's  summary  that  he  was  "a 
man  who,  being  intrusted  with  the  highest  gifts  of  Heaven, 
habitually  abused  them  for  the  poorest  purposes  of  earth  — 
hired  them  out  for  guineas,  places,  and  titles  in  the  service 
of  injustice,  covetousness,  and  oppression." 

Laying  aside  the  opinions  of  others,  and  relying  only  upon 
the  facts  of  Bacon's  life,  we  find  on  the  one  side  the  politician, 
cold,  calculating,  selfish,  and  on  the  other  the  literary  and 

1  The  reader  will  find  wholesome  criticism  of  these  writers,  and  selections  from  their 
works,  in  Charles  Lamb's  Specimens  of  English  Dramatic  Poets,  an  excellent  book,  which 
helps  us  to  a  better  knowledge  and  appreciation  of  the  lesser  Elizabethan  dramatists. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  167 

scientific  man  with  an  impressive  devotion  to  truth  for  its 
own  great  sake ;  here  a  man  using  questionable  means  to 
advance  his  own  interests,  and  there  a  man  seeking  with  zeal 
and  endless  labor  to  penetrate  the  secret  ways  of  Nature, 
with  no  other  object  than  to  advance  the  interests  of  his 
fellow-men.  So,  in  our  ignorance  of  the  secret  motives  and 
springs  of  the  man's  life,  judgment  is  necessarily  suspended. 
Bacon  was  apparently  one  of  those  double  natures  that  only 
God  is  competent  to  judge,  because  of  the  strange  mixture 
of  intellectual  strength  and  moral  weakness  that  is  in  them. 

Life.  Bacon  was  the  son  of  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  Lord  Keeper  of 
the  Seal,  and  of  the  learned  Ann  Cook,  sister-in-law  to  Lord  Burleigh, 
greatest  of  the  queen's  statesmen.  From  these  connections,  as  well 
as  from  native  gifts,  he  was  attracted  to  the  court,  and  as  a  child  was 
called  by  Elizabeth  her  "Little  Lord  Keeper."  At  twelve  he  went 
to  Cambridge,  but  left  the  university  after  two  years,  declaring  the 
whole  plan  of  education  to  be  radically  wrong,  and  the  system 
of  Aristotle,  which  was  the  basis  of  all  philosophy  in  those  days,  to 
be  a  childish  delusion,  since  in  the  course  of  centuries  it  had  "  pro- 
duced no  fruit,  but  only  a  jungle  of  dry  and  useless  branches." 
Strange,  even  for  a  sophomore  of  fourteen,  thus  to  condemn  the  whole 
system  of  the  universities  ;  but  such  was  the  boy,  and  the  system  ! 
Next  year,  in  order  to  continue  his  education,  he  accompanied  the 
English  ambassador  to  France,  where  he  is  said  to  have  busied  him- 
self chiefly  with  the  practical  studies  of  statistics  and  diplomacy. 

Two  years  later  he  was  recalled  to  London  by  the  death  of  his 
father.  Without  money,  and  naturally  with  expensive  tastes,  he 
applied  to  his  Uncle  Burleigh  for  a  lucrative  position.  It  was  in 
this  application  that  he  used  the  expression,  so  characteristic  of  the 
Elizabethan  Age,  that  he  "  had  taken  all  knowledge  for  his  province." 
Burleigh,  who  misjudged  him  as  a  dreamer  and  self-seeker,  not  only 
refused  to  help  him  at  the  court  but  successfully  opposed  his  ad- 
vancement by  Elizabeth.  Bacon  then  took  up  the  study  of  law, 
and  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1582.  That  he  had  not  lost  his 
philosophy  in  the  mazes  of  the  law  is  shown  by  his  tract,  written 
about  this  time,  "  On  the  Greatest  Birth  of  Time,"  which  was  a  pie? 
for  his  inductive  system  of  philosophy,  reasoning  from  many  facts 
to  one  law,  rather  than  from  an  assumed  law  to  particular  facts, 


1 68  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

which  was  the  deductive  method  that  had  been  in  use  for  centuries. 
In  his  famous  plea  for  progress  Bacon  demanded  three  things  :  the 
free  investigation  of  nature,  the  discovery  of  facts  instead  of  theories, 
and  the  verification  of  results  by  experiment  rather  than  by  argument. 
In  our  day  these  are  the  A,  B,  C  of  science,  but  in  Bacon's  time  they 
seemed  revolutionary. 

As  a  lawyer  he  became  immediately  successful;  his  knowledge 
and  power  of  pleading  became  widely  known,  and  it  was  almost  at 
the  beginning  of  his  career  that  Jonson  wrote,  "  The  fear  of  every  one 
that  heard  him  speak  was  that  he  should  make  an  end."  The  pub- 
lication of  his  Essays  added  greatly  to  his  fame ;  but  Bacon  was  not 
content.  His  head  was  buzzing  with  huge  schemes, —  the  pacification 
of  unhappy  Ireland,  the  simplification  of  English  law,  the  reform  of 
the  church,  the  study  of  nature,  the  establishment  of  a  new  philoso- 
phy. Meanwhile,  sad  to  say,  he  played  the  game  of  politics  for  his 
personal  advantage.  He  devoted  himself  to  Essex,  the  young  and 
dangerous  favorite  of  the  queen,  won  his  friendship,  and  then  used 
him  skillfully  to  better  his  own  position.  When  the  earl  was  tried 
for  treason  it  was  partly,  at  least,  through  Bacon's  efforts  that  he  was 
convicted  and  beheaded ;  and  though  Bacon  claims  to  have  been 
actuated  by  a  high  sense  of  justice,  we  are  not  convinced  that  he 
understood  either  justice  or  friendship  in  appearing  as  queen's 
counsel  against  the  man  who  had  befriended  him.  His  cold- 
bloodedness and  lack  of  moral  sensitiveness  appear  even  in  his 
essays  on  "  Love  "  and  "  Friendship."  Indeed,  we  can  understand 
his  life  only  upon  the  theory  that  his  intellectuality  left  him  cold  and 
dead  to  the  higher  sentiments  of  our  humanity. 

During  Elizabeth's  reign  Bacon  had  sought  repeatedly  for  high 
office,  but  had  been  blocked  by  Burleigh  and  perhaps  also  by  the 
queen's  own  shrewdness  in  judging  men.  With  the  advent  of 
James  I  (1603)  Bacon  devoted  himself  to  the  new  ruler  and  rose 
rapidly  in  favor.  He  was  knighted,  and  soon  afterwards  attained 
another  object  of  his  ambition  in  marrying  a  rich  wife.  The 
appearance  of  his  great  work,  the  Advancement  of  Learning,  in 
1605,  was  largely  the  result  of  the  mental  stimulus  produced  by  his 
change  in  fortune.  In  1613  he  was  made  attorney-general,  and 
speedily  made  enemies  by  using  the  office  to  increase  his  personal 
ends.  He  justified  himself  in  his  course  by  his  devotion  to  the 
king's  cause,  and  by  the  belief  that  the  higher  his  position  and  the 
more  ample  his  means  the  more  he  could  do  for  science.  It  was 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  169 

in  this  year  that  Bacon  wrote  his  series  of  State  Papers,  which  show 
a  marvelous  grasp  of  the  political  tendencies  of  his  age.  Had  his 
advice  been  followed,  it  would  have  certainly  averted  the  struggle 
between  king  and  parliament  that  followed  speedily.  In  1617  he 
was  appointed  to  his  father's  office,  Lord  Keeper  of  the  Seal,  and 
the  next  year  to  the  high  office  of  Lord  Chancellor.  With  this 
office  he  received  the  title  of  Baron  Verulam,  and  later  of  Viscount 
St.  Alban,  which  he  affixed  with  some  vanity  to  his  literary  work. 
Two  years  later  appeared  his  greatest  work,  the  Novum  Organum, 
called  after  Aristotle's  famous  Organon.  . 

Bacon  did  not  long  enjoy  his  political  honors.  The  storm  which 
had  been  long  gathering  against  James's  government  broke  suddenly 
upon  Bacon's  head.  When  Parliament  assembled  in  1621  it  vented 
its  distrust  of  James  and  his  favorite  Villiers  by  striking  unexpectedly 
at  their  chief  adviser.  Bacon  was  sternly  accused  of  accepting  bribes, 
and  the  evidence  was  so  great  that  he  confessed  that  there  was  much 
political  corruption  abroad  in  the  land,  that  he  was  personally  guilty 
of  some  of  it,  and  he  threw  himself  upon  the  mercy  of  his  judges. 
Parliament  at  that  time  was  in  no  mood  for  mercy.  Bacon  was  de- 
prived of  his  office  and  was  sentenced  to  pay  the  enormous  fine  of 
40,000  pounds,  to  be  imprisoned  during  the  king's  pleasure,  and 
thereafter  to  be  banished  forever  from  Parliament  and  court.  Though 
the  imprisonment  lasted  only  a  few  days  and  the  fine  was  largely  re- 
mitted, Bacon's  hopes  and  schemes  for  political  honors  were  ended ; 
and  it  is  at  this  point  of  appalling  adversity  that  the  nobility  in  the 
man's  nature  asserts  itself  strongly.  If  the  reader  be  interested  to 
apply  a  great  man's  philosophy  to  his  own  life,  he  will  find  the  essay, 
"Of  Great  Place,"  most  interesting  in  this  connection. 

Bacon  now  withdrew  permanently  from  public  life,  and  devoted 
his  splendid  ability  to  literary  and  scientific  work.  He  completed 
the  Essays,  experimented  largely,  wrote  history,  scientific  articles, 
and  one  scientific  novel,  and  made  additions  to  his  Instauratio 
Magna,  the  great  philosophical  work  which  was  never  finished.  In 
the  spring  of  1626,  while  driving  in  a  snowstorm,  it  occurred  to  him 
that  snow  might  be  used  as  a  preservative  instead  of  salt.  True  to 
his  own  method  of  arriving  at  truth,  he  stopped  at  the  first  house, 
bought  a  fowl,  and  proceeded  to  test  his  theory.  The  experiment 
chilled  him,  and  he  died  soon  after  from  the  effects  of  his  ex- 
posure. As  Macaulay  wrote,  "the  great  apostle  of  experimental 
philosophy  was  destined  to  be  its  martyr." 


170  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Works  of  Bacon.  Bacon's  philosophic  works,  The  Advance- 
ment of  Learning  and  the  Novum  Organum,  will  be  best  un- 
derstood in  connection  with  the  Instauratio  Magna,  or  T/ie 
Great  Institution  of  True  Philosophy,  of  which  they  were 
parts.  The  Instauratio  was  never  completed,  but  the  very 
idea  of  the  work  was  magnificent, —  to  sweep  away  the  in- 
volved philosophy  of  the  schoolmen  and  the  educational 
systems  of  the  universities,  and  to  substitute  a  single  great 
work  which  should  be  a-complete  education,  "  a  rich  storehouse 
for  the  glory  of  the  Creator  and  for  the  relief  of  man's  estate." 
The  object  of  this  education  was  to  bring  practical  results  to 
all  the  people,  instead  of  a  little  selfish  culture  and  much  use- 
less speculation,  which,  he  conceived,  were  the  only  products 
of  the  universities. 

The  Instauratio  Magna.  This  was  the  most  ambitious, 
though  it  is  not  the  best  known,  of  Bacon's  works.  For  the 
insight  it  gives  us  into  the  author's  mind,  we  note  here  a 
brief  outline  of  his  subject.  It  was  divided  into  six  parts, 
as  follows : 

1.  Partitiones   Scientiarum.    This  was    to   be    a   classification    and 
summary  of  all  human  knowledge.    Philosophy  and  all  speculation  must 
be  cast  out  and  the  natural  sciences  established  as  the  basis  of  all  edu- 
cation.   The  only  part  completed  was   The  Advancement  of  Learning, 
which  served  as  an  introduction. 

2.  Novum  Organum,  or  the  "new  instrument,"  that  is,  the  use  of 
reason  and  experiment  instead  of  the  old  Aristotelian  logic.    To  find 
truth  one  must  do  two  things :   (#)  get  rid  of  all  prejudices  or  idols,  as 
Bacon  called  them.    These  "  idols  "  are  four :  "  idols  of  the  tribe,"  that  is, 
prejudices  due  to  common  methods  of  thought  among  all  races;  "idols 
of  the  cave  or  den,"  that  is,  personal  peculiarities  and  prejudices  ;  "idols 
of  the  market  place,"  due  to  errors  of  language;    and  "idols  of  the 
theater,"  which  are  the  unreliable  traditions  of  men.    (£)  After  dis- 
carding the  above  "idols"  we  must  interrogate  nature;  must  collect 
facts  by  means  of  numerous  experiments,  arrange  them  in  order,  and 
then  determine  the  law  that  underlies  them. 

It  will  be  seen  at  a  glance  that  the  above  is  the  most  important  of 
Bacon's  works.  The  Organum  was  to  be  in  several  books,  only  two  of 
which  he  completed,  and  these  he  wrote  and  rewrote  twelve  times  until 
they  satisfied  him. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  1 71 

3.  Historia  Naturalis  et  Experimentalis,  the  study  of  all  the  phe- 
nomena of  nature.     Of  four  parts  of  this  work  which  he  completed, 
one  of  them  at  least,  the  Sylva  Sylvarum,  is  decidedly  at  variance  with 
his  own  idea  of  fact  and  experiment.     It  abounds  in  fanciful  explana- 
tions, more  worthy  of  the  poetic  than  of  the  scientific  mind.     Nature  is 
seen  to   be  full  of  desires  and  instincts  ;  the  air  "  thirsts  "  for  light  and 
fragrance  ;   bodies  rise  or  sink  because  they  have  an  "  appetite  "  for 
height  or  depth  ;  the  qualities  of  bodies  are  the  result  of  an  "essence," 
so  that  when  we  discover  the  essences  of  gold  and  silver  and  diamonds 
it  will  be  a  simple  matter  to  create  as  much  of  them  as  we  may  need. 

4.  Scala  Intellect's^  or  "  Ladder  of  the  Mind,"  is  the  rational  appli- 
cation of  the  Organum  to  all  problems.     By  it  the  mind  should  ascend 
step  by  step  from  particular  facts  and  instances  to  general  laws  and 
abstract  principles. 

5.  Prodrome  "  Prophecies  or  Anticipations,"  is  a  list  of  discoveries 
that  men  shall  make  when  they  have  applied  Bacon's  methods  of  study 
and  experimentation. 

6.  Philosophia   Secunda,   which   was   to   be  a   record   of   practical 
results  of  the  new  philosophy  when  the  succeeding  ages  should  have 
applied  it  faithfully. 

It  is  impossible  to  regard  even  the  outline  of  such  a  vast 
work  without  an  involuntary  thrill  of  admiration  for  the  bold 
and  original  mind  which  conceived  it.  "  We  may,"  said  Bacon, 
"  make  no  despicable  beginnings.  The  destinies  of  the  human 
race  must  complete  the  work  .  .  .  for  upon  this  will  depend 
not  only  a  speculative  good  but  all  the  fortunes  of  mankind 
and  all  their  power."  There  is  the  unconscious  expression  of 
one  of  the  great  minds  of  the  world.  Bacon  was  like  one  of 
the  architects  of  the  Middle  Ages,  who  drew  his  plans  for  a 
mighty  cathedral,  perfect  in  every  detail  from  the  deep 
foundation  stone  to  the  cross  on  the  highest  spire,  and  who 
gave  over  his  plans  to  the  builders,  knowing  that,  in  his  own 
lifetime,  only  one  tiny  chapel  would  be  completed ;  but 
knowing  also  that  the  very  beauty  of  his  plans  would  appeal 
to  others,  and  that  succeeding  ages  would  finish  the  work 
which  he  dared  to  begin. 

The  Essays.  Bacon's  famous  Essays  is  the  one  work  which 
will  interest  all  students  of  our  literature.  His  Instauratio  was 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

in  Latin,  written  mostly  by  paid  helpers  from  short  English 
abstracts.  He  regarded  Latin  as  the  only  language  worthy  of 
a  great  work  ;  but  the  world  neglected  his  Latin  to  seize  upon 
his  English, —  marvelous  English,  terse,  pithy,  packed  with 
thought,  in  an  age  that  used  endless  circumlocutions.  The 
first  ten  essays,  published  in  1597,  were  brief  notebook 
jottings  of  Bacon's  observations.  Their  success  astonished 
the  author,  but  not  till  fifteen  years  later  were  they  repub- 
lished  and  enlarged.  Their  charm  grew  upon  Bacon  himself, 
and  during  his  retirement  he  gave  more  thought  to  the  won- 
derful language  which  he  had  at  first  despised  as  much  as 
Aristotle's  philosophy.  In  1612  appeared  a  second  edition 
containing  thirty-eight  essays,  and  in  1625,  the  year  before 
his  death,  he  republished  the  Essays  in  their  present  form, 
polishing  and  enlarging  the  original  ten  to  fifty-eight,  cover- 
ing a  wide  variety  of  subjects  suggested  by  the  life  of  men 
around  him. 

Concerning  the  best  of  these  essays  there  are  as  many 
opinions  as  there  are  readers,  and  what  one  gets  out  of  them 
depends  largely  upon  his  own  thought  and  intelligence.  In 
this  respect  they  are  like  that  Nature  to  which  Bacon  directed 
men's  thoughts.  The  whole  volume  may  be  read  through  in 
an  evening ;  but  after  one  has  read  them  a  dozen  times  he 
still  finds  as  many  places  to  pause  and  reflect  as  at  the  first 
reading.  If  one  must  choose  out  of  such  a  storehouse,  we 
would  suggest  "Studies,"  "Goodness,"  "Riches,"  "Atheism," 
"Unity  in  Religion,"  "Adversity,"  "Friendship,"  and  "Great 
Place  "  as  an  introduction  to  Bacon's  worldly-wise  philosophy. 

Miscellaneous  Works.  Other  works  of  Bacon  are  interest- 
ing as  a  revelation  of  the  Elizabethan  mind,  rather  than 
because  of  any  literary  value.  The  New  Atlantis  is  a  kind  of 
scientific  novel  describing  another  Utopia  as  seen  by  Bacon. 
The  inhabitants  of  Atlantis  have  banished  Philosophy  and 
applied  Bacon's  method  of  investigating  Nature,  using 
the  results  to  better  their  own  condition.  They  have  a 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  1/3 

wonderful  civilization,  in  which  many  of  our  later  discov- 
eries—  academies  of  the  sciences,  observatories,  balloons, 
submarines,  the  modification  of  species,  and  several  others  — 
were  foreshadowed  with  a  strange  mixture  of  cold  reason  and 
poetic  intuition.  De  Sapientia  Veterum  is  a  fanciful  attempt 
to  show  the  deep  meaning  underlying  ancient  myths, — a 
meaning  which  would  have  astonished  the  myth  makers  them- 
selves. The  History  of  Henry  VII  is  a  calm,  dispassionate, 
and  remarkably  accurate  history,  which  makes  us  regret  that 
Bacon  did  not  do  more  historical  work.  Besides  these  are 
metrical  versions  of  certain  Psalms  —  which  are  valuable,  in 
view  of  the  controversy  anent  Shakespeare's  plays,  for  show- 
ing Bacon's  utter  inability  to  write  poetry  —  and  a  large 
number  of  letters  and  state  papers  showing  the  range  and 
power  of  his  intellect. 

Bacon's  Place  and  Work.  Although  Bacon  was  for  the 
greater  part  of  his  life  a  busy  man  of  affairs,  one  cannot 
read  his  work  without  becoming  conscious  of  two  things, — 
a  perennial  freshness,  which  the  world  insists  upon  in  all 
literature  that  is  to  endure,  and  an  intellectual  power  which 
marks  him  as  one  of  the  great  minds  of  the  world. 

Of  late  the  general  tendency  is  to  give  less  and  less 
prominence  to  his  work  in  science  and  philosophy ;  but 
criticism  of  his  Instauratio,  in  view  of  his  lofty  aim,  is  of 
small  consequence.  It  is  true  that  his  "science"  to-day 
seems  woefully  inadequate ;  true  also  that,  though  he  sought 
to  discover  truth,  he  thought  perhaps  to  monopolize  it,  and 
so  looked  with  the  same  suspicion  upon  Copernicus  as  upon 
the  philosophers.  The  practical  man  who  despises  philosophy 
has  simply  misunderstood  the  thing  he  despises.  In  being 
practical  and  experimental  in  a  romantic  age  he  was  not 
unique,  as  is  often  alleged,  but  only  expressed  the  tendency 
of  the  English  mind  in  all  ages.  Three  centuries  earlier  the 
monk  Roger  Bacon  did  more  practical  experimenting  than 
the  Elizabethan  sage;  and  the  latter 's  famous  "idols"  are 


174  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

strongly  suggestive  of  the  former's  "Four  Sources  of  Human 
Ignorance."  Although  Bacon  did  not  make  any  of  the  scien- 
tific discoveries  at  which  he  aimed,  yet  the  whole  spirit  of 
his  work,  especially  of  the  Organum^  has  strongly  influenced 
science  in  the  direction  of  accurate  observation  and  of  care- 
fully testing  every  theory  by  practical  experiment.  "  He  that 
regardeth  the  clouds  shall  not  sow,"  said  a  wise  writer  of  old  ; 
and  Bacon  turned  men's  thoughts  from  the  heavens  above, 
with  which  they  had  been  too  busy,  to  the  earth  beneath, 
which  they  had  too  much  neglected.  In  an  age  when  men 
were  busy  with  romance  and  philosophy,  he  insisted  that  the 
first  object  of  education  is  to  make  a  man  familiar  with  his 
natural  environment ;  from  books  he  turned  to  men,  from 
theory  to  fact,  from  philosophy  to  nature,  —  and  that  is  per- 
haps his  greatest  contribution  to  life  and  literature.  Like 
Moses  upon  Pisgah,  he  stood  high  enough  above  his  fellows 
to  look  out  over  a  promised  land,  which  his  people  would 
inherit,  but  into  which  he  himself  might  never  enter. 

Richard  Hooker  (i554?-i6oo).  In  strong  contrast  with 
Bacon  is  Richard  Hooker,  one  of  the  greatest  prose  writers 
of  the  Elizabethan  Age.  One  must  read  the  story  of  his  life, 
an  obscure  and  lowly  life  animated  by  a  great  spirit,  as  told 
by  Izaak  Walton,  to  appreciate  the  full  force  of  this  contrast. 
Bacon  took  all  knowledge  for  his  province,  but  mastered  no 
single  part  of  it.  Hooker,  taking  a  single  theme,  the  law  and 
practice  of  the  English  Church,  so  handled  it  that  no  scholar 
even  of  the  present  day  would  dream  of  superseding  it  or  of 
building  upon  any  other  foundation  than  that  which  Hooker 
laid  down.  His  one  great  work  is  The  Laivs  of  Ecclesiastical 
Polity?-  a  theological  and  argumentative  book ;  but,  entirely 
apart  from  its  subject,  it  will  be  read  wherever  men  desire 
to  hear  the  power  and  stateliness  of  the  English  language. 
Here  is  a  single  sentence,  remarkable  not  only  for  its  perfect 

1  The  first  five  books  were  published  1594-1597,  and  are  as  Hooker  wrote  them.  The 
last  three  books,  published  after  his  death,  are  of  doubtful  authorship,  but  they  are 
thought  to  have  been  completed  from  Hooker's  notes. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  175 

form  but  also  for  its  expression  of  the  reverence  for  law  which 
lies  at  the  heart  of  Anglo-Saxon  civilization : 

Of  law  there  can  be  no  less  acknowledged  than  that  her  seat  is  the 
bosom  of  God,  her  voice  the  harmony  of  the  world  ;  all  things  in  heaven 
and  earth  do  her  homage  ;  the  very  least  as  feeling  her  care,  and  the 
greatest  as  not  exempted  from  her  power ;  both  angels  and  men,  and 
creatures  of  what  condition  soever,  though  each  in  different  sort  and 
manner,  yet  all  with  uniform  consent  admiring  her  as  the  mother  of 
their  peace  and  joy. 

Sidney  and  Raleigh.  Among  the  prose  writers  of  this 
wonderful  literary  age  there  are  many  others  that  deserve 
passing  notice,  though  they  fall  far  below  the  standard  of 
Bacon  and  Hooker.  Sir  Philip  Sidney  (1554-1586),  who  has 
already  been  considered  as  a  poet,  is  quite  as  well  known  by 
his  prose  works,  Arcadia,  a  pastoral  romance,  and  the  Defense 
of  Poesie,  one  of  our  earliest  literary  essays.  Sidney,  whom 
the  poet  Shelley  has  eulogized,  represents  the  whole  romantic 
tendency  of  his  age ;  while  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  (i552?-i6i8) 
represents  its  adventurous  spirit  and  activity.  The  life  of 
Raleigh  is  an  almost  incomprehensible  mixture  of  the  poet, 
scholar,  and  adventurer ;  now  helping  the  Huguenots  or  the 
struggling  Dutch  in  Europe,  and  now  leading  an  expedition 
into  the  unmapped  wilds  of  the  New  World ;  busy  here  with 
court  intrigues,  and  there  with  piratical  attempts  to  capture 
the  gold-laden  Spanish  galleons  ;  one  moment  sailing  the  high 
seas  in  utter  freedom,  and  the  next  writing  history  and  poetry 
to  solace  his  imprisonment.  Such  a  life  in  itself  is  a  volume 
far  more  interesting  than  anything  that  he  wrote.  He  is  the 
restless  spirit  of  the  Elizabethan  Age  personified. 

Raleigh's  chief  prose  works  are  the  Discoverie  of  Guiana, 
a  work  which  would  certainly  have  been  interesting  enough 
had  he  told  simply  what  he  saw,  but  which  was  filled  with 
colonization  schemes  and  visions  of  an  El  Dorado  to  fill  the 
eyes  and  ears  of  the  credulous  ;  and  the  History  of  the  World, 
written  to  occupy  his  prison  hours.  The  history  is  a  wholly 
untrustworthy  account  of  events  from  creation  to  the  downfall 


176  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  the  Macedonian  Empire.  It  is  interesting  chiefly  for  its 
style,  which  is  simple  and  dignified,  and  for  the  flashes  of 
wit  and  poetry  that  break  into  the  fantastic  combination  of 
miracles,  traditions,  hearsay,  and  state  records  which  he  called 
history.  In  the  conclusion  is  the  famous  apostrophe  to  Death, 
which  suggests  what  Raleigh  might  have  done  had  he  lived 
less  strenuously  and  written  more  carefully. 

O  eloquent,  just,  and  mighty  Death  !  whom  none  could  advise  thou  hast 
persuaded ;  what  none  hath  dared  thou  hast  done ;  and  whom  all  the 
world  hath  flattered  thou  only  hast  cast  out  of  the  world  and  despised  ; 
thou  hast  drawn  together  all  the  star-stretched  greatness,  all  the  pride, 
cruelty,  and  ambition  of  man,  and  covered  it  all  over  with  these  two 
narrow  words,  Hie  jacet ! 

John  Foxe  (15  16-158 7).  Foxe  will  be  remembered  always 
for  his  famous  Book  of  Martyrs,  a  book  that  our  elders  gave  to 
us  on  Sundays  when  we  were  young,  thinking  it  good  discipline 
for  us  to  afflict  our  souls  when  we  wanted  to  be  roaming  the 
sunlit  fields,  or  when  in  our  enforced  idleness  we  would,  if  our 
own  taste  in  the  matter  had  been  consulted,  have  made  good 
shift  to  be  quiet  and  happy  with  Robinson  Crusoe.  So  we 
have  a  gloomy  memory  of  Foxe,  and  something  of  a  grievance, 
which  prevent  a  just  appreciation  of  his  worth. 

Foxe  had  been  driven  out  of  England  by  the  Marian  per- 
secutions, and  in  a  wandering  but  diligent  life  on  the  Continent 
he  conceived  the  idea  of  writing  a  history  of  the  persecutions 
of  the  church  from  the  earliest  days  to  his  own.  The  part 
relating  to  England  and  Scotland  was  published,  in  Latin, 
in  1559,  under  a  title  as  sonorous  and  impressive  as  the 
Roman  office  for  the  dead, —  Rerum  in  Ecclesia  Gestarum 
Maximarumque per Europam  Persecutionum  Commentarii.  On 
his  return  to  England  Foxe  translated  this  work,  calling  it  the 
Acts  and  Monuments  ;  but  it  soon  became  known  as  the  Book 
of  Martyrs,  and  so  it  will  always  be  called.  Foxe's  own 
bitter  experience  causes  him  to  write  with  more  heat  and 
indignation  than  his  saintly  theme  would  warrant,  and  the 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  I// 

"holy  tone"  sometimes  spoils  a  narrative  that  would  be  im- 
pressive in  its  bare  simplicity.  Nevertheless  the  book  has 
made  for  itself  a  secure  place  in  our  literature.  It  is  strongest 
in  its  record  of  humble  men,  like  Rowland  Taylor  and  Thomas 
Hawkes,  whose  sublime  heroism,  but  for  this  narrative,  would 
have  been  lost  amid  the  great  names  and  the  great  events  that 
fill  the  Elizabethan  Age. 

Camden  and  Knox.  Two  historians,  William  Camden  and 
John  Knox,  stand  out  prominently  among  the  numerous 
historical  writers  of  the  age.  Camden's  Britannia  (1586)  is 
a  monumental  work,  which  marks  the  beginning  of  true 
antiquarian  research  in  the  field  of  history ;  and  his  Annals 
of  Queen  Elizabeth  is  worthy  of  a  far  higher  place  than  has 
thus  far  been  given  it.  John  Knox,  the  reformer,  in  his 
History  of  the  Reformation  in  Scotland,  has  some  very  vivid 
portraits  of  his  helpers  and  enemies.  The  personal  and 
aggressive  elements  enter  too  strongly  for  a  work  of  history  ; 
but  the  autobiographical  parts  show  rare  literary  power. 
His  account  of  his  famous  interview  with  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots  is  clear-cut  as  a  cameo,  and  shows  the  man's  ex- 
traordinary power  better  than  a  whole  volume  of  biography. 
Such  scenes  make  one  wish  that  more  of  his  time  had  been 
given  to  literary  work,  rather  than  to  the  disputes  and  troubles 
of  his  own  Scotch  kirk. 

Hakluyt  and  Purchas.  Two  editors  of  this  age  have  made 
for  themselves  an  enviable  place  in  our  literature.  They  are 
Richard  Hakluyt  (i552?-i6i6)  and  Samuel  Purchas  (1575?— 
1626).  Hakluyt  was  a  clergyman  who  in  the  midst  of  his 
little  parish  set  himself  to  achieve  two  great  patriotic  ends, — 
to  promote  the  wealth  and  commerce  of  his  country,  and  to 
preserve  the  memory  of  all  his  countrymen  who  added  to  the 
glory  of  the  realm  by  their  travels  and  explorations.  To 
further  the  first  object  he  concerned  himself  deeply  with 
the  commercial  interests  of  the  East  India  Company,  with 
Raleigh's  colonizing  plans  in  Virginia,  and  with  a  translation 


178  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  De  Soto's  travels  in  America.  To  further  the  second  he 
made  himself  familiar  with  books  of  voyages  in  all  foreign 
languages  and  with  the  brief  reports  of  explorations  of  his 
own  countrymen.  His  Principal  Navigations,  Voyages,  and 
Discoveries  of  the  English  Nation,  in  three  volumes,  appeared 
first  in  1589,  and  a  second  edition  followed  in  1598-1600. 
The  first  volume  tells  of  voyages  to  the  north  ;  the  second  to 
India  and  the  East ;  the  third,  which  is  as  large  as  the  other 
two,  to  the  New  World.  With  the  exception  of  the  very  first 
voyage,  that  of  King  Arthur  to  Iceland  in  517,  which  is 
founded  on  a  myth,  all  the  voyages  are  authentic  accounts 
of  the  explorers  themselves,  and  are  immensely  interesting 
reading  even  at  the  present  day.  No  other  book  of  travels 
has  so  well  expressed  the  spirit  and  energy  of  the  English 
race,  or  better  deserves  a  place  in  our  literature. 

Samuel  Purchas,  who  was  also  a  clergyman,  continued  the 
work  of  Hakluyt,  using  many  of  the  latter's  unpublished 
manuscripts  and  condensing  the  records  of  numerous  other 
voyages.  His  first  famous  book,  Purchas,  His  Pilgrimage,  ap- 
peared in  1613,  and  was  followed  by  Hakluytus  Post  humus, 
or  Purchas  His  Pilgrimes,  in  1625.  The  very  name  inclines 
one  to  open  the  book  with  pleasure,  and  when  one  follows 
his  inclination  —  which  is,  after  all,  one  of  the  best  guides  in 
literature  —  he  is  rarely  disappointed.  Though  it  falls  far 
below  the  standard  of  Hakluyt,  both  in  accuracy  and  literary 
finish,  there  is  still  plenty  to  make  one  glad  that  the  book  was 
written  and  that  he  can  now  comfortably  follow  Purchas  on 
his  pilgrimage. 

Thomas  North.  Among  the  translators  of  the  Elizabethan 
Age  Sir  Thomas  North  (1535  ?-i6oi?)  is  most  deserving  of 
notice  because  of  his  version  of  Plutarch s  Lives  (1579)  from 
which  Shakespeare  took  the  characters  and  many  of  the  inci- 
dents for  three  great  Roman  plays.  Thus  in  North  we  read : 

Caesar  also  had  Cassius  in  great  jealousy  and  suspected  him  much: 
whereupon  he  said  on  a  time  to  his  friends :  "  What  will  Cassius  do, 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  179 

think  ye  ?  I  like  not  his  pale  looks."  Another  time  when  Caesar's  friends 
warned  him  of  Antonius  and  Dolabella,  he  answered  them  again,  "I 
never  reckon  of  them  ;  but  these  pale-visaged  and  carrion  lean  people, 
I  fear  them  most,"  meaning  Brutus  and  Cassius. 

Shakespeare  merely  touches  such  a  scene  with  the  magic  of 
his  genius,  and  his  Caesar  speaks : 

Let  me  have  men  about  me  that  are  fat: 
Sleek-headed  men,  and  such  as  sleep  o'  nights. 
Yond  Cassius  has  a  lean  and  hungry  look : 
He  thinks  too  much  :  such  men  are  dangerous. 

A  careful  reading  of  North's  Plutarch  and  then  of  the  famous 
Roman  plays  shows  to  how  great  an  extent  Shakespeare  was 
dependent  upon  his  obscure  contemporary. 

North's  translation,  to  which  we  owe  so  many  heroic 
models  in  our  literature,  was  probably  made  not  from  Plu- 
tarch but  from  Amyot's  excellent  French  translation.  Never- 
theless he  reproduces  the  spirit  of  the  original,  and  notwith- 
standing our  modern  and  more  accurate  translations,  he 
remains  the  most  inspiring  interpreter  of  the  great  biographer 
whom  Emerson  calls  "the  historian  of  heroism." 

Summary  of  the  Age  of  Elizabeth.  This  period  is  generally  regarded  as 
the  greatest  in  the  history  of  our  literature.  Historically,  we  note  in  this  age 
the  tremendous  impetus  received  from  the  Renaissance,  from  the  Reformation, 
and  from  the  exploration  of  the  New  World.  It  was  marked  by  a  strong 
national  spirit,  by  patriotism,  by  religious  tolerance,  by  social  content,  by 
intellectual  progress,  and  by  unbounded  enthusiasm. 

Such  an  age,  of  thought,  feeling,  and  vigorous  action,  finds  its  best  expres- 
sion in  the  drama;  and  the  wonderful  development  of  the  drama,  culminat- 
ing in  Shakespeare,  is  the  most  significant  characteristic  of  the  Elizabethan 
period.  Though  the  age  produced  some  excellent  prose  works,  it  is  essentially 
an  age  of  poetry ;  and  the  poetry  is  remarkable  for  its  variety,  its  freshness, 
its  youthful  and  romantic  feeling.  Both  the  poetry  and  the  drama  were  per- 
meated by  Italian  influence,  which  was  dominant  in  English  literature  from 
Chaucer  to  the  Restoration.  The  literature  of  this  age  is  often  called  the  lit- 
erature of  the  Renaissance,  though,  as  we  have  seen,  the  Renaissance  itself 
began  much  earlier,  and  for  a  century  and  a  half  added  very  little  to  our  liter- 
ary possessions. 

In  our  study  of  this  great  age  we  have  noted  (i)  the  Non-dramatic  Poets, 
that  is,  poets  who  did  not  write  for  the  stage.  The  center  of  this  group  is 


ISO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Edmund  Spenser,  whose  Shepherd11  s  Calendar  (1579)  marked  the  appearance 
of  the  first  national  poet  since  Chaucer's  death  in  1400.  His  most  famous 
work  is  The  Faery  Queen.  Associated  with  Spenser  are,  the  minor  poets, 
Thomas  Sackville,  Michael  Drayton,  George  Chapman,  and  Philip  Sidney. 
Chapman  is  noted  for  his  completion  of  Marlowe's  poem,  Hero  and  Leander, 
and  for  his  translation  of  Homer's  Iliad  and  Odyssey.  Sidney,  besides  his 
poetry,  wrote  his  prose  romance  Arcadia,  and  The  Defense  of  Poesie,  one  of 
our  earliest  critical  essays. 

(2)  The  Rise  of  the  Drama  in  England ;  the  Miracle  plays,  Moralities,  and 
Interludes ;  our  first  play,  "  Ralph  Royster  Doyster  " ;  the  first  true  English 
comedy,  "  Gammer  Gurton's  Needle,"  and  the  first  tragedy, "  Gorboduc  " ;  the 
conflict  between  classic  and  native  ideals  in  the  English  drama. 

(3)  Shakespeare's  Predecessors,  Lyly,  Kyd,  Nash,  Peele,  Greene,  Marlowe  ; 
the  types  of  drama  with  which  they  experimented,  —  the  Marlowesque,  one- 
man  type,  or  tragedy  of  passion,  the  popular  Chronicle  plays,  the  Domestic 
drama,  the  Court  or  Lylian  comedy,  Romantic  comedy  and  tragedy,  Classical 
plays,  and  the  Melodrama.    Marlowe  is  the  greatest  of  Shakespeare's  prede- 
cessors.   His  four  plays  are  "  Tamburlaine,"  "  Faustus,"  "  The  Jew  of  Malta," 
and  "  Edward  II." 

(4)  Shakespeare,  his  life,  work,  and  influence. 

(5)  Shakespeare's  Successors,  Ben  Jonson,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Web- 
ster, Middleton,  Heywood*  Dekker;  and  the  rapid  decline  of  the  drama.    Ben 
Jonson  is  the  greatest  of  this  group.    His  chief  comedies  are  "  Every  Man 
in  His  Humour,"  "The   Silent  Woman,"  and  "  The  Alchemist";     his   two 
extant  tragedies  are  "  Sejanus  "  and  "  Catiline." 

(6)  The  Prose  Writers,  of  whom  Bacon  is  the  most  notable.    His  chief 
philosophical  work  is  the    Instauratio  Magna  (incomplete),  which  includes 
"  The  Advancement  of  Learning  "  and  the  "  Novum  Organum  " ;  but  he  is 
known  to  literary  readers  by  his  famous  Essays.    Minor  prose  writers  are 
Richard  Hooker,  John  Foxe,  the  historians  Camden  and  Knox,  the  editors 
Hakluyt  and  Purchas,  who  gave  us  the  stirring  records  of  exploration,  and 
Thomas  North,  the  translator  of  Plutarch's  Lives. 

Selections  for  Reading.  Spenser.  Faery  Queen,  selections  in  Standard 
English  Classics  ;  Bk.  i,  in  Riverside  Literature  Series,  etc. ;  Shepherd's  Cal- 
endar, in  Cassell's  National  Library;  Selected  Poems,  in  Canterbury  Poets 
Series;  Minor  Poems,  in  Temple  Classics;  Selections  in  Manly's  English 
Poetry,  or  Ward's  English  Poets. 

Minor  Poets.  Drayton,  Sackville,  Sidney,  Chapman,  Selections  in  Manly 
or  Ward ;  Elizabethan  songs,  in  Schelling's  Elizabethan  Lyrics,  and  in  Pal- 
grave's  Golden  Treasury;  Chapman's  Homer,  in  Temple  Classics. 

The  Early  Drama.  Play  of  Noah's  Flood,  in  Manly's  Specimens  of  the 
Pre-Shaksperean  Drama,  or  in  Pollard's  English  Miracle  Plays,  Moralities 
and  Interludes,  or  in  Belles  Lettres  Series,  sec.  2 ;  L.  T.  Smith's  The  York 
Miracle  Plays. 

Lyly.   Endymion,  in  Holt's  English  Readings. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  181 

Marlowe.  Faustus,  in  Temple  Dramatists,  or  Mermaid  Series,  or  Morley's 
Universal  Library,  or  Lamb's  Specimens  of  English  Dramatic  Poets ;  Selec- 
tions in  Manly's  English  Poetry,  or  Ward's  English  Poets  ;  Edward  II,  in 
Temple  Dramatists,  and  in  Holt's  English  Readings. 

Shakespeare.  Merchant  of  Venice,  Julius  Caesar,  Macbeth,  etc.,  in  Standard 
English  Classics  (edited,  with  notes,  with  special  reference  to  college-entrance 
requirements).  Good  editions  of  single  plays  are  numerous  and  cheap.  Hud- 
son's and  Rolfe's  and  the  Arden  Shakespeare  are  suggested  as  satisfactory. 
The  Sonnets,  edited  by  Beeching,  in  Athenaeum  Press  Series. 

Ben  Jons  on.  The  Alchemist,  in  Canterbury  Poets  Series,  or  Morley's  Uni- 
versal Library  ;  Selections  in  Manly's  English  Poetry,  or  Ward's  English  Poets, 
or  Canterbury  Poets  Series ;  Selections  from  Jonson's  Masques,  in  Evans's 
English  Masques;  Timber,  edited  by  Schelling,  in  Athenaeum  Press  Series. 

Bacon.  Essays,  school  edition  (Ginn  and  Company) ;  Northup's  edition,  in 
Riverside  Literature  Series  (various  other  inexpensive  editions,  in  the  Pitt 
Press,  Golden  Treasury  Series,  etc.) ;  Advancement  of  Learning,  Bk.  I,  edited 
by  Cook  (Ginn  and  Company).  Compare  selections  from  Bacon,  Hooker, 
Lyly,  and  Sidney,  in  Manly's  English  Prose. 

Bibliography.1  History.  Text-book,  Montgomery,  pp.  208-238 ;  Cheyney, 
pp.  330-410;  Green,  ch.  7  ;  Traill,  Macaulay,  Froude. 

Special  works.  Creighton's  The  Age  of  Elizabeth ;  Hall's  Society  in  the 
Elizabethan  Age ;  Winter's  Shakespeare's  England ;  Goadby's  The  England 
of  Shakespeare ;  Lee's  Stratford  on  Avon ;  Harrison's  Elizabethan  England. 

Literature.  Saintsbury's  History  of  Elizabethan  Literature ;  Whipple's 
Literature  of  the  Age  of  Elizabeth  ;  S.  Lee's  Great  Englishmen  of  the  Six- 
teenth Century ;  Schelling's  Elizabethan  Lyrics,  in  Athenaeum  Press  Series ; 
Vernon  Lee's  Euphorion. 

Spenser.  Texts,  Cambridge,  Globe,  and  Aldine  editions ;  Noel's  Selected 
Poems  of  Spenser,  in  Canterbury  Poets;  Minor  Poems,  in  Temple  Classics; 
Arber's  Spenser  Anthology  ;  Church's  Life  of  Spenser,  in  English  Men  of 
Letters  Series ;  Lowell's  Essay,  in  Among  My  Books,  or  in  Literary  Essays, 
vol.  4;  Hazlitt's  Chaucer  and  Spenser,  in  Lectures  on  the  English  Poets; 
Dowden's  Essay,  in  Transcripts  and  Studies. 

The  Drama.  Texts,  Manly's  Specimens  of  the  Pre-Shakesperean  Drama, 
2  vols.,  in  Athenaeum  Press  Series ;  Pollard's  English  Miracle  Plays,  Morali- 
ties and  Interludes;  the  Temple  Dramatists;  Morley's  Universal  Library; 
Arber's  English  Reprints ;  Mermaid  Series,  etc. ;  Thayer's  The  Best  Eliza- 
bethan Plays. 

Gayley's  Plays  of  Our  Forefathers  (Miracles,  Moralities,  etc.) ;  Bates's  The 
English  Religious  Drama ;  Schelling's  The  English  Chronicle  Play ;  Lowell's 
Old  English  Dramatists  ;  Boas's  Shakespeare  and  his  Predecessors  ;  Symonds's 
Shakespeare's  .Predecessors  in  the  English  Drama ;  Schelling's  Elizabethan 
Drama;  Lamb's  Specimens  of  English  Dramatic  Poets;  Introduction  to 

1  For  titles  and  publishers  of  reference  works  see  General  Bibliography  at  the  end 
of  this  book. 


1 82  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Hudson's  Shakespeare  :  His  Life,  Art,  and  Characters ;  Ward's  History  of  Eng- 
lish Dramatic  Literature ;  Dekker's  The  Gull's  Hornbook,  in  King's  Classics. 

Marlowe.  Works,  edited  by  Bullen ;  chief  plays  in  Temple  Dramatists, 
Mermaid  Series  of  English  Dramatists,  Morley's  Universal  Library,  etc. ; 
Lowell's  Old  English  Dramatists  ;  Symonds's  introduction,  in  Mermaid  Series  ; 
Dowden's  Essay,  in  Transcripts  and  Studies. 

Shakespeare.  Good  texts  are  numerous.  Furness's  Variorum  edition  is  at 
present  most  useful  for  advanced  work.  Hudson's  revised  edition,  each  play 
in  a  single  volume,  with  notes  and  introductions,  will,  when  complete,  be  one 
of  the  very  best  for  students'  use. 

Raleigh's  Shakespeare,  in  English  Men  of  Letters  Series ;  Lee's  Life  of 
Shakespeare  ;  Hudson's  Shakespeare  :  his  Life,  Art,  and  Characters ;  Halliwell- 
Phillipps's  Outlines  of  the  Life  of  Shakespeare ;  Fleay's  Chronicle  History  of 
the  Life  and  Work  of  Shakespeare ;  Dowden's  Shakespeare,  a  Critical  Study 
of  his  Mind  and  Art ;  Shakespeare  Primer  (same  author) ;  Baker's  The  De- 
velopment of  Shakespeare  as  a  Dramatist ;  Lounsbury's  Shakespeare  as  a 
Dramatic  Artist ;  The  Text  of  Shakespeare  (same  author) ;  Wendell's  William 
Shakespeare ;  Bradley's  Shakesperian  Tragedy ;  Hazlitt's  Shakespeare  and 
Milton,  in  Lectures  on  the  English  Poets ;  Emerson's  Essay,  Shakespeare  or 
the  Poet ;  Lowell's  Essay,  in  Among  My  Books ;  Lamb's  Tales  from  Shake- 
speare ;  Mrs.  Jameson's  Shakespeare's  Female  Characters  (called  also  Char- 
acteristics of  Women) ;  Rolfe's  Shakespeare  the  Boy ;  Brandes's  William 
Shakespeare ;  Moulton's  Shakespeare  as  a  Dramatic  Artist ;  Mabie's  William 
Shakespeare,  Poet,  Dramatist,  and  Man ;  The  Shakespeare  Apocrypha,  edited 
by  C.  F.  T.  Brooke;  Shakespeare's  Holinshed,  edited  by  Stone  ;  Shakespeare 
Lexicon,  by  Schmidt ;  Concordance,  by  Bartlett ;  Grammar,  by  Abbott,  or 
by  Franz. 

Ben  Jonson.  Texts  in  Mermaid  Series,  Temple  Dramatists,  Morley's  Uni- 
versal Library,  etc. ;  Masques  and  Entertainments  of  Ben  Jonson,  edited  by 
Morley,  in  Carisbrooke  Library;  Timber,  edited  by  Schelling,  in  Athenaeum 
Press  Series. 

Beaumont,  Fletcher,  etc.  Plays  in  Mermaid  Series,  Temple  Dramatists,  etc. ; 
Schelling's  Elizabethan  Drama ;  Lowell's  Old  English  Dramatists ;  Lamb's 
Specimens  of  English  Dramatic  Poets ;  Fleay's  Biographical  Chronicle  of  the 
English  Drama ;  Swinburne's  Essays,  in  Essays  in  Prose  and  Poetry,  and  in 
Essays  and  Studies. 

Bacon.  Texts,  Essays  in  Everyman's  Library,  etc. ;  Advancement  of  Learn- 
ing in  Clarendon  Press  Series,  Library  of  English  Classics,  etc. ;  Church's 
Life  of  Bacon,  in  English  Men  of  Letters  Series ;  Nichol's  Bacon's  Life 
and  Philosophy ;  Francis  Bacon,  translated  from  the  German  of  K.  Fischer 
(excellent,  but  rare) ;  Macaulay's  Essay  on  Bacon. 

Minor  Prose  Writers.  Sidney's  Arcadia,  edited  by  Somers ;  Defense  of  Poesy, 
edited  by  Cook,  in  Athenaeum  Press  Series  ;  Arber's  Reprints,  etc. ;  Selections 
from  Sidney's  prose  and  poetry  in  the  Elizabethan  Library;  Symonds's  Life  of 
Sidney,  in  English  Men  of  Letters  ;  Bourne's  Life  of  Sidney,  in  Heroes  of  the 
Nations ;  Lamb's  Essay  on  Sidney's  Sonnets,  in  Essays  of  Elia. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH  183 

Raleigh's  works,  published  by  the  Oxford  Press  ;  Selections  by  Grosart,  in 
Elizabethan  Library ;  Raleigh's  Last  Fight  of  the  Revenge,  in  Arber's  Re- 
prints ;  Life  of  Raleigh,  by  Edwards  and  by  Gosse.  Richard  Hooker's  works, 
edited  by  Keble,  Oxford  Press ;  Laws  of  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  in  Everyman's 
Library,  and  in  Morley's  Universal  Library ;  Life,  in  Walton's  Lives,  in  Mor- 
ley's  Universal  Library ;  Dowden's  Essay,  in  Puritan  and  Anglican. 

Lyly's  Euphues,  in  Arber's  Reprints ;  Endymion,  edited  by  Baker ;  Cam- 
paspe,  in  Manly's  Pre-Shaksperean  Drama. 

North's  Plutarch's  Lives,  edited  by  Wyndham,  in  Tudor  Library ;  school 
edition,  by  Ginn  and  Company.  Hakluyt's  Voyages,  in  Everyman's  Library ; 
Jones's  introduction  to  Hakluyt's  Diverse  Voyages ;  Payne's  Voyages  of 
Elizabethan  Seamen;  Froude's  Essay,  in  Short  Studies  on  Great  Subjects. 

Suggestive  Questions,  i.  What  historical  conditions  help  to  account  for 
the  great  literature  of  the  Elizabethan  age  ?  What  are  the  general  character- 
istics of  Elizabethan  literature  ?  What  type  of  literature  prevailed,  and  why  ? 
What  work  seems  to  you  to  express  most  perfectly  the  Elizabethan  spirit  ? 

2.  Tell  briefly  the  story  of  Spenser's  life.    What  is  the  story  or  argument 
of  the  Faery  Queen  ?   What  is  meant  by  the  Spenserian  stanza  ?    Read  and 
comment  upon  Spenser's  "  Epithalamion."    Why  does  the  "  Shepherd's  Calen- 
dar "  mark  a  literary  epoch  ?    What  are  the  main  qualities  of  Spenser's  poetry  ? 
Can  you  quote   or   refer  to  any  passages  which   illustrate  these  qualities  ? 
Why  is  he  called  the  poets'  poet  ? 

3.  For  what  is  Sackville  noted  ?    What  is  the  most  significant  thing  about 
his  "  Gorboduc  "  ?    Name  other  minor  poets  and  tell  what  they  wrote. 

4.  Give  an  outline  of  the  origin  and  rise  of  the  drama  in  England.    What 
is  meant  by  Miracle  and  Mystery  plays  ?    What  purposes  did  they  serve  among 
the  common  people  ?    How  did  they  help  the  drama  ?    What  is  meant  by 
cycles  of  Miracle  plays?    How  did  the  Moralities  differ  from  the  Miracles? 
What  was  the  chief  purpose  of  the  Interludes  ?    What  type  of  drama  did  they 
develop  ?  Read  a  typical  play,  like  "  Noah's  Flood  "  or  "  Everyman,"  and  write 
a  brief  analysis  of  it. 

5.  What  were  our  first  plays  in  the  modern  sense  ?    What  influence  did  the 
classics  exert  on  the  English  drama  ?    What  is  meant  by  the  dramatic  unities  ? 
In  what  important  respect  did  the  English  differ  from  the  classic  drama  ? 

6.  Name  some  of  Shakespeare's  predecessors  in  the  drama?    What  types 
of  drama  did  they  develop  ?   Name  some  plays  of  each  type.    Are  any  of  these 
plays  still  presented  on  the  stage  ? 

7.  What  are  Marlowe's  chief  plays  ?    What  is  the  central  motive  in  each  ? 
Why  are  they  called  one-man  plays  ?    What  is  meant  by  Marlowe's  "  mighty 
line  "  ?    What  is  the  story  of  "  Faustus  "  ?    Compare  "  Faustus  "  and  Goethe's 
"  Faust,"  having  in  mind  the  story,  the  dramatic  interest,  and  the  literary 
value  of  each  play. 

8.  Tell  briefly  the  story  of  Shakespeare's  life.    What  fact  in  his  life  most 
impressed  you  ?    How  does  Shakespeare  sum  up  the  work  of  all  his  predeces- 
sors ?    What  are  the  four  periods  of  his  work,  and  the  chief  plays  of  each  ? 


1 84 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


Where  did  he  find  his  plots  ?  What  are  his  romantic  plays  ?  his  chronicle  or 
historical  plays  ?  What  is  the  difference  between  a  tragedy  and  a  comedy  ? 
Name  some  of  Shakespeare's  best  tragedies,  comedies,  and  historical  plays. 
Which  play  of  Shakespeare's  seems  to  you  to  give  the  best  picture  of  human 
life  ?  Why  is  he  called  the  myriad-minded  Shakespeare  ?  For  what  reasons  is 
he  considered  the  greatest  of  writers  ?  Can  you  explain  why  Shakespeare's 
plays  are  still  acted,  while  other  plays  of  his  age  are  rarely  seen  ?  If  you  have 
seen  any  of  Shakespeare's  plays  on  the  stage,  how  do  they  compare  in  interest 
with  a  modern  play  ? 

9.  What  are  Ben  Jonson's  chief  plays  ?    In  what  important  respects  did 
they  differ  from  those  of  Shakespeare  ?    Tell  the  story  of  "  The  Alchemist " 
or  "  The   Silent   Woman."     Name  other  contemporaries  and  successors  of 
Shakespeare.    Give  some  reasons  for  the  preeminence  of  the   Elizabethan 
drama.    What  causes  led  to  its  decline  ? 

10.  Tell  briefly  the  story  of  Bacon's  life.    What  is  his  chief  literary  work  ? 
his  chief  educational  work  ?    Why  is  he  called  a  pioneer  of  modern  science  ? 
Can  you  explain  what  is  meant  by  the  inductive  method  of  learning  ?    What 
subjects  are  considered  in  Bacon's  Essays?   What  is  the  central  idea  of  the 
essay  you  like  best  ?    What  are  the  literary  qualities  of  these  essays  ?    Do 
they  appeal  to  the  intellect  or  the  emotions  ?    What  is  meant  by  the  word 
"  essay,"  and  how  does  Bacon  illustrate  the  definition  ?    Make  a  comparison 
between  Bacon's  essays  and  those  of  some  more  recent  writer,  such  as  Addi- 
son,  Lamb,  Carlyie,  Emerson,  or  Stevenson,  having  in  mind  the  subjects, 
style,  and  interest  of  both  essayists. 

11.  Who  are  the  minor  prose  writers  of  the  Elizabethan  Age  ?   What  did 
they  write  ?    Comment  upon  any  work  of  theirs  which  you  have  read.    What 
is  the  literary  value  of  North's  Plutarch  ?    What  is  the  chief  defect  in  Eliza- 
bethan prose  as  a  whole  ?    What  is  meant  by  euphuism  ?    Explain  why  Eliza- 
bethan poetry  is  superior  to  the  prose. 


CHRONOLOGY 

Last  Half  of  the  Sixteenth  and  First  Half  of  the  Seventeenth  Centuries 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


1558.  Elizabeth  (d.  1603) 


1571.  Rise  of  English  Puritans 
1577.    Drake's    Voyage    around    the 
World 


1559.  John  Knox  in  Edinburgh 

1562  (?).  Gammer  Gurton's  Needle. 
Gorboduc 

1564.  Birth  of  Shakespeare 

1576.   First  Theater 

1 579.  Spenser's  Shepherd's  Calendar. 
Lyly's  Euphues.  North's  Plu- 
tarch. 


THE  AGE  OF  ELIZABETH 


185 


CHRONOLOGY  (continued} 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


1588.  Defeat  of  the  Armada 


1603.  James  I  (d.  1625) 

1604.  Divine    Right    of    Kings    pro- 

claimed 

1607.  Settlement  at  Jamestown,  Vir- 
ginia 


1620.  Pilgrim  Fathers  at  Plymouth 


1625.  Charles  I 


1587.  Shakespeare  in  London, 
lowe's  Tamburlaine 


Mar- 


1590.  Spenser's    Faery    Queen.    Sid- 
ney's Arcadia 

1590-1595.  Shakespeare's  Early  Plays 
1597-1625.  Bacon's  Essays 
1598-1614.  Chapman's  Homer 
1598.  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  His 

Humour 
1600-1607.   Shakespeare's   Tragedies 

1 605.  Bacon's  Advancement  of  Learn- 
ing 
1608.   Birth  of  Milton 

1611.   Translation  (King  James  Ver- 
sion) of  Bible 
1614.  Raleigh's  History 
1616.'  Death  of  Shakespeare 
1620-1642.  Shakespeare's  successors. 

End  of  drama 

1620.  Bacon's  Novum  Organum 
1622.    First  regular  newspaper,  The 

Weekly  News 
1626.  Death  of  Bacon 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  PURITAN  AGE  (1620-1660) 
I.  HISTORICAL  SUMMARY 

The  Puritan  Movement.  In  its  broadest  sense  the  Puritan  move- 
ment may  be  regarded  as  a  second  and  greater  Renaissance,  a 
rebirth  of  the  moral  nature  of  man  following  the  intellectual  awak- 
ening of  Europe  in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries.  In  Italy, 
whose  influence  had  been  uppermost  in  Elizabethan  literature,  the 
Renaissance  had  been  essentially  pagan  and  sensuous.  It  had  hardly 
touched  the  moral  nature  of  man,  and  it  brought  little  relief  from  the 
despotism  of  rulers.  One  can  hardly  read  the  horrible  records  of  the 
Medici  or  the  Borgias,  or  the  political  observations  of  Machiavelli, 
without  marveling  at  the  moral  and  political  degradation  of  a  cul- 
tured nation.  In  the  North,  especially  among  the  German  and  Eng- 
lish peoples,  the  Renaissance  was  accompanied  by  a  moral  awakening, 
and  it  is  precisely  that  awakening  in  England,  "that  greatest  moral 
and  political  reform  which  ever  swept  over  a  nation  in  the  short  space 
of  half  a  century,"  which  is  meant  by  the  Puritan  movement.  We 
shall  understand  it  better  if  we  remember  that  it  had  two  chief 
objects:  the  first  was  personal  righteousness;  the  second  was  civil 
and  religious  liberty.  In  other  words,  it  aimed  to  make  men  honest 
and  to  make  them  free. 

Such  a  movement  should  be  cleared  of  all  the  misconceptions 
which  have  clung  to  it  since  the  Restoration,  when  the  very  name 
Wrong  °*  Puritan  was  made  ridiculous  by  the  jeers  of  the  gay 

ideas  of  courtiers  of  Charles  II.  Though  the  spirit  of  the  move- 
the  Puritans  ment  was  profoun(Hy  religious,  the  Puritans  were  not  a 
religious  sect ;  neither  was  the  Puritan  a  narrow-minded  and  gloomy 
dogmatist,  as  he  is  still  pictured  even  in  the  histories.  Pym  and 
Hampden  and  Eliot  and  Milton  were  Puritans;  and  in  the  long 
struggle  for  human  liberty  there  are  few  names  more  honored  by 
freemen  everywhere.  Cromwell  and  Thomas  Hooker  were  Puritans; 
yet  Cromwell  stood  like  a  rock  for  religious  tolerance ;  and  Thomas 
Hooker,  in  Connecticut,  gave  to  the  world  the  first  written  constitution, 

186 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  187 

in  which  freemen,  before  electing  their  officers,  laid  down  the 
strict  limits  of  the  offices  to  which  they  were  elected.  That  is  a 
Puritan  document,  and  it  marks  one  of  the  greatest  achievements 
in  the  history  of  government. 

From  a  religious  view  point  Puritanism  included  all  shades  of  belief. 
The  name  was  first  given  to  those  who  advocated  certain  changes  in 
the  form  of  worship  of  the  reformed  English  Church  under  Elizabeth ; 
but  as  the  ideal  of  liberty  rose  in  men's  minds,  and  opposed  to  it 
were  the  king  and  his  evil  counselors  and  the  band  of  intolerant 
churchmen  of  whom  Laud  is  the  great  example,  then  Puritanism 
became  a  great  national  movement.  It  included  English  churchmen 
as  well  as  extreme  Separatists,  Calvinists,  Covenanters,  Catholic 
noblemen,  —  all  bound  together  in  resistance  to  despotism  in  Church 
and  State,  and  with  a  passion  for  liberty  and  righteousness  such  as 
the  world  has  never  since  seen.  Naturally  such  a  movement  had  its 
extremes  and  excesses,  and  it  is  from  a  few  zealots  and  fanatics  that 
most  of  our  misconceptions  about  the  Puritans  arise.  Life  was  stern 
in  those  days,  too  stern  perhaps,  and  the  intensity  of  the  struggle 
against  despotism  made  men  narrow  and  hard.  In  the  triumph  of 
Puritanism  under  Cromwell  severe  laws  were  passed,  many  simple 
pleasures  were  forbidden,  and  an  austere  standard  of  living  was  forced 
upon  an  unwilling  people.  So  the  criticism  is  made  that  the  wild  out- 
break of  immorality  which  followed  the  restoration  of  Charles  was 
partly  due  to  the  unnatural  restrictions  of  the  Puritan  era.  The  criti- 
cism is  just ;  but  we  must  not  forget  the  whole  spirit  of  the  movement. 
That  the  Puritan  prohibited  Maypole  dancing  and  horse  racing  is  of 
small  consequence  beside  the  fact  that  he  fought  for  liberty  and  jus- 
tice, that  he  overthrew  despotism  and  made  a  man's  life  and  property 
safe  from  the  tyranny  of  rulers.  A  great  river  is  not  judged  by  the 
foam  on  its  surface,  and  certain  austere  laws  and  doctrines  which  we 
have  ridiculed  are  but  froth  on  the  surface  of  the  mighty  Puritan 
current  that  has  flowed  steadily,  like  a  river  of  life,  through  English 
and  American  history  since  the  Age  of  Elizabeth. 

Changing  Ideals.  The  political  upheaval  of  the  period  is  summed 
up  in  the  terrible  struggle  between  the  king  and  Parliament,  which 
resulted  in  the  death  of  Charles  at  the  block  and  the  establishment 
of  the  Commonwealth  under  Cromwell.  For  centuries  the  English 
people  had  been  wonderfully  loyal  to  their  sovereigns ;  but  deeper 
than  their  loyalty  to  kings  was  the  old  Saxon  love  for  personal  liberty. 
At  times,  as  in  the  days  of  Alfred  and  Elizabeth,  the  two  ideals  went 


1 88  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

hand  in  hand ;  but  more  often  they  were  in  open  strife,  and  a  final 
struggle  for  supremacy  was  inevitable.  The  crisis  came  when  James  I, 
who  had  received  the  right  of  royalty  from  an  act  of  Parliament, 
began,  by  the  assumption  of  "divine  right,"  to  ignore  the  Parliament 
which  had  created  him.  Of  the  civil  war  which  followed  in  the  reign 
of  Charles  I,  and  of  the  triumph  of  English  freedom,  it  is  unneces- 
sary to  write  here.  The  blasphemy  of  a  man's  divine  right  to  rule 
his  fellow-men  was  ended.  Modern  England  began  with  the  charge 
of  Cromwell's  brigade  of  Puritans  at  Naseby. 

Religiously  the  age  was  one  of  even  greater  ferment  than  that 
which  marked  the  beginning  of  the  Reformation.  A  great  ideal,  the 
Religious  ideal  of  a  national  church,  was  pounding  to  pieces,  like 
Ideals  a  ship  in  the  breakers,  and  in  the  confusion  of  such  an 

hour  the  action  of  the  various  sects  was  like  that  of  frantic  passengers, 
each  striving  to  save  his  possessions  from  the  wreck.  The  Catholic 
church,  as  its  name  implies,  has  always  held  true  to  the  ideal  of  a 
united  church,  a  church  which,  like  the  great  Roman  government 
of  the  early  centuries,  can  bring  the  splendor  and  authority  of  Rome 
to  bear  upon  the  humblest  village  church  to  the  farthest  ends  of  the 
earth.  For  a  time  that  mighty  ideal  dazzled  the  German  and  English 
reformers  ;  but  the  possibility  of  a  united  Protestant  church  perished 
with  Elizabeth.  Then,  instead  of  the  world-wide  church  which  was 
the  ideal  of  Catholicism,  came  the  ideal  of  a  purely  national  Protes- 
tantism. This  was  the  ideal  of  Laud  and  the  reactionary  bishops,  no 
less  than  of  the  scholarly  Richard  Hooker,  of  the  rugged  Scotch 
Covenanters,  and  of  the  Puritans  of  Massachusetts  Bay.  It  is  in- 
tensely interesting  to  note  that  Charles  called  Irish  rebels  and  Scotch 
Highlanders  to  his  aid  by  promising  to  restore  their  national  reli- 
gions ;  and  that  the  English  Puritans,  turning  to  Scotland  for  help, 
entered  into  the  solemn  Covenant  of  1643,  establishing  a  national 
Presbyterianism,  whose  object  was  : 

To  bring  the  churches  of  God  in  the  three  kingdoms  to  uniformity  in  reli- 
gion and  government,  to  preserve  the  rights  of  Parliament  and  the  liberties 
of  the  Kingdom  ;  .  .  .  that  we  and  our  posterity  may  as  brethren  live  in 
faith  and  love,  and  the  Lord  may  delight  to  live  in  the  midst  of  us. 

In  this  famous  Covenant  we  see  the  national,  the  ecclesiastical,  and 
the  personal  dream  of  Puritanism,  side  by  side,  in  all  their  grandeur 
and  simplicity. 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  189 

Years  passed,  years  of  bitter  struggle  and  heartache,  before  the 
impossibility  of  uniting  the  various  Protestant  sects  was  generally 
recognized.  The  ideal  of  a  national  church  died  hard,  and  to  its 
death  is  due  all  the  religious  unrest  of  the  period.  Only  as  we 
remember  the  national  ideal,  and  the  struggle  which  it  caused,  can 
we  understand  the  amazing  life  and  work  of  Bunyan,  or  appreciate 
the  heroic  spirit  of  the  American  colonists  who  left  home  for  a  wilder- 
ness in  order  to  give  the  new  ideal  of  a  free  church  in  a  free  state 
its  practical  demonstration. 

Literary  Characteristics.  In  literature  also  the  Puritan  Age 
was  one  of  confusion,  due  to  the  breaking  up  of  old  ideals. 
Mediaeval  standards  of  chivalry,  the  impossible  loves  and 
romances  of  which  Spenser  furnished  the  types,  perished  no 
less  surely  than  the  ideal  of  a  national  church  ;  and  in  the 
absence  of  any  fixed  standard  of  literary  criticism  there  was 
nothing  to  prevent  the  exaggeration  of  the  "  metaphysical " 
poets,  who  are  the  literary  parallels  to  religious  sects  like 
the  Anabaptists.  Poetry  took  new  and  startling  forms  in 
Donne  and  Herbert,  and  prose  became  as  somber  as  Burton's 
Anatomy  of  Melancholy.  The  spiritual  gloom  which  sooner 
or  later  fastens  upon  all  the  writers  of  this  age,  and  which 
is  unjustly  attributed  to  Puritan  influence,  is  due  to  the 
breaking  up  of  accepted  standards  in  government  and  religion. 
No  people,  from  the  Greeks  to  those  of  our  own  day,  have 
suffered  the  loss  of  old  ideals  without  causing  its  writers  to  cry, 
"  Ichabod  1  the  glory  has  departed."  That  is  the  unconscious 
tendency  of  literary  men  in  all  times,  who  look  backward  for 
their  golden  age ;  and  it  need  not  concern  the  student  of 
literature,  who,  even  in  the  break-up  of  cherished  institutions, 
looks  for  some  foregleams  of  a  better  light  which  is  to  break 
upon  the  world.  This  so-called  gloomy  age  produced  some 
minor  poems  of  exquisite  workmanship,  and  one  great  master 
of  verse  whose  work  would  glorify  any  age  or  people,  —  John 
Milton,  in  whom  the  indomitable  Puritan  spirit  finds  its  noblest 
expression. 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

There  are  three  main  characteristics  in  which  Puritan 
literature  differs  from  that  of  the  preceding  age :  ( I )  Eliza- 
Puritan  and  ketnan  literature,  with  all  its  diversity,  had  a 
Elizabethan  marked  unity  in  spirit,  resulting  from  the  patriot- 
ism of  all  classes  and  their  devotion  to  a  queen 
who,  with  all  her  faults,  sought  first  the  nation's  welfare. 
Under  the  Stuarts  all  this  was  changed.  The  kings  were  the 
open  enemies  of  the  people ;  the  country  was  divided  by 
the  struggle  for  political  and  religious  liberty ;  and  the  litera- 
ture was  as  divided  in  spirit  as  were  the  struggling  parties. 
(2)  Elizabethan  literature  is  generally  inspiring  ;  it  throbs 
with  youth  and  hope  and  vitality.  That  which  follows  speaks 
of  age  and  sadness ;  even  its  brightest  hours  are  followed  by 
gloom,  and  by  the  pessimism  inseparable  from  the  passing  of 
,old  standards.  (3)  Elizabethan  literature  is  intensely  romantic ; 
the  romance  springs  from  the  heart  of  youth,  and  believes  all 
things,  even  the  impossible.  The  great  schoolman's  credo, 
"  I  believe  because  it  is  impossible,"  is  a  better  expression 
of  Elizabethan  literature  than  of  mediaeval  theology.  In  the 
literature  of  the  Puritan  period  one  looks  in  vain  for  romantic 
ardor.  Even  in  the  lyrics  and  love  poems  a  critical,  intellec- 
tual spirit  takes  its  place,  and  whatever  romance  asserts  itself 
is  in  form  rather  than  in  feeling,  a  fantastic  and  artificial 
adornment  of  speech  rather  than  the  natural  utterance  of  a 
heart  in  which  sentiment  is  so  strong  and  true  that  poetry  is 
its  only  expression. 

II.  LITERATURE  OF  THE  PURITAN  PERIOD 

The  Transition  Poets.  When  one  attempts  to  classify  the 
literature  of  the  first  half  of  the  seventeenth  century,  from 
the  death  of  Elizabeth  (1603)  to  the  Restoration  (1660),  he 
realizes  the  impossibility  of  grouping  poets  by  any  accurate 
standard.  The  classifications  attempted  here  have  small 
dependence  upon  dates  or  sovereigns,  and  are  suggestive 
rather  than  accurate.  Thus  Shakespeare  and  Bacon  wrote 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  191 

largely  in  the  reign  of  James  I,  but  their  work  is  Elizabethan 
in  spirit ;  and  Bimyan  is  no  less  a  Puritan  because  he  hap- 
pened to  write  after  the  Restoration.  The  name  Metaphys- 
ical poets,  given  by  Dr.  Johnson,  is  somewhat  suggestive  but 
not  descriptive  of  the  followers  of  Donne ;  the  name  Caro- 
line or  Cavalier  poets  brings  to  mind  the  careless  temper  of 
the  Royalists  who  followed  King  Charles  with  a  devotion  of 
which  he  was  unworthy  ;  and  the  name  Spenserian  poets 
recalls  the  little  band  of  dreamers  who  clung  to  Spenser's 
ideal,  even  while  his  romantic  mediaeval  castle  was  battered 
down  by  Science  at  the  one  gate  and  Puritanism  at  the  other. 
At  the  beginning  of  this  bewildering  confusion  of  ideals  ex- 
pressed in  literature,  we  note  a  few  writers  who  are  gener- 
ally known  as  Jacobean  poets,  but  whom  we  have  called  the 
Transition  poets  because,  with  the  later  dramatists,  they  show 
clearly  the  changing  standards  of  the  age. 

Samuel  Daniel  (1562—1619).  Daniel,  who  is  often  classed 
with  the  first  Metaphysical  poets,  is  interesting  to  us  for  two 
reasons,  —  for  his  use  of  the  artificial  sonnet,  and  for  his 
literary  desertion  of  Spenser  as  a  model  for  poets.  His  Delia, 
a  cycle  of  sonnets  modeled,  perhaps,  after  Sidney's  Astrophel 
and  Stella,  helped  to  fix  the  custom  of  celebrating  love  or 
friendship  by  a  series  of  sonnets,  to  which  some  pastoral 
pseudonym  was  affixed.  In  his  sonnets,  many  of  which  rank 
with  Shakespeare's,  and  in  his  later  poetry,  especially  the 
beautiful  "Complaint  of  Rosamond"  and  his  "  Civil  Wars," 
he  aimed  solely  at  grace  of  expression,  and  became  influential 
in  giving  to  English  poetry  a  greater  individuality  and  in- 
dependence than  it  had  ever  known.  In  matter  he  set  himself 
squarely  against  the  mediaeval  tendency  : 

Let  others  sing  of  kings  and  paladines 
In  aged  accents  and  untimely  words, 
Paint  shadows  in  imaginary  lines. 

This  fling  at  Spenser  and  his  followers  marks  the  beginning 
of  the  modern  and  realistic  school,  which  sees  in  life  as  it  is 


192  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

enough  poetic  material,  without  the  invention  of  allegories 
and  impossible  heroines.  Daniel's  poetry,  which  was  forgot- 
ten soon  after  his  death,  has  received  probably  more  homage 
than  it  deserves  in  the  praises  of  Wordsworth,  Southey,  Lamb, 
and  Coleridge.  The  latter  says :  "  Read  Daniel,  the  admir- 
able Daniel.  The  style  and  language  are  just  such  as  any 
pure  and  manly  writer  of  the  present  day  would  use.  It  seems 
quite  modern  in  comparison  with  the  style  of  Shakespeare." 

The  Song  Writers.  In  strong  contrast  with  the  above  are 
two  distinct  groups,  the  Song  Writers  and  the  Spenserian 
poets.  The  close  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  was  marked  by 
an  outburst  of  English  songs,  as  remarkable  in  its  sudden 
development  as  the  rise  of  the  drama.  Two  causes  contributed 
to  this  result, —  the  increasing  influence  of  French  instead  of 
Italian  verse,  and  the  rapid  development  of  music  as  an  art 
at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  two  song  writers 
best  worth  studying  are  Thomas  Campion  (1567?-! 619)  and 
Nicholas  Breton  (1545  ?-i626?).  Like  all  the  lyric  poets  of 
the  age,  they  are  a  curious  mixture  of  the  Elizabethan  and 
the  Puritan  standards.  They  sing  of  sacred  and  profane  love 
with  the  same  zest,  and  a  careless  love  song  is  often  found  on 
the  same  page  with  a  plea  for  divine  grace. 

The  Spenserian  Poets.  Of  the  Spenserian  poets  Giles 
Fletcher  and  Wither  are  best  worth  studying.  Giles  Fletcher 
(i588?-i623)  has  at  times  a  strong  suggestion  of  Milton 
(who  was  also  a  follower  of  Spenser  in  his  early  years)  in  the 
noble  simplicity  and  majesty  of  his  lines.  His  best  known  work, 
"  Christ's  Victory  and  Triumph  "  (1610),  was  the  greatest  reli- 
gious poem  that  had  appeared  in  England  since  "  Piers  Plow- 
man," and  is  not  an  unworthy  predecessor  of  Paradise  Lost. 

The  life  of  George  Wither  (1588-1667)  covers  the  whole 
period  of  English  history  from  Elizabeth  to  the  Restoration, 
and  the  enormous  volume  of  his  work  covers  every  phase  of 
the  literature  of  two  great  ages.  His  life  was  a  varied  one ; 
now  as  a  Royalist  leader  against  the  Covenanters,  and  again 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  193 

announcing  his  Puritan  convictions,  and  suffering  in  prison  for 
his  faith.  At  his  best  Wither  is  a  lyric  poet  of  great  origi- 
nality, rising  at  times  to  positive  genius  ;  but  the  bulk  of  his 
poetry  is  intolerably  dull.  Students  of  this  period  find  him 
interesting  as  an  epitome  of  the  whole  age  in  which  he  lived  ; 
but  the  average  reader  is  more  inclined  to  note  with  interest 
that  he  published  in  1623  Hymns  and  Songs  of  the  Church, 
the  first  hymn  book  that  ever  appeared  in  the  English  language. 
The  Metaphysical  Poets.  This  name  —  which  was  given 
by  Dr.  Johnson  in  derision,  because  of  the  fantastic  form  of 
Donne's  poetry  —  is  often  applied  to  all  minor  poets  of  the 
Puritan  Age.  We  use  the  term  here  in  a  narrower  sense, 
excluding  the  followers  of  Daniel  and  that  later  group  known 
as  the  Cavalier  poets.  It  includes  Donne,  Herbert,  Waller, 
Denham,  Cowley,  Vaughan,  Davenant,  Marvell,  and  Crashaw. 
The  advanced  student  finds  them  all  worthy  of  study,  not 
only  for  their  occasional  excellent  poetry,  but  because  of  their 
influence  on  later  literature.  Thus  Richard  Crashaw  (1613  ?— 
1649),  tne  Catholic  mystic,  is  interesting  because  his  troubled 
life  is  singularly  like  Donne's,  and  his  poetry  is  at  times  like 
Herbert's  set  on  fire.1  Abraham  Cowley  (1618-1667),  who 
blossomed  young  and  who,  at  twenty-five,  was  proclaimed  the 
greatest  poet  in  England,  is  now  scarcely  known  even  by 
name,  but  his  "  Pindaric  Odes "  2  set  an  example  which  in- 
fluenced English  poetry  throughout  the  eighteenth  century. 
Henry  Vaughan  (1622-1695)  is  worthy  of  study  because  he 
is  in  some  respects  the  forerunner  of  Wordsworth;3  and 
Andrew  Marvell  (1621-1678),  because  of  his  loyal  friendship 
with  Milton,  and  because  his  poetry  shows  the  conflict  between 
the  two  schools  of  Spenser  and  Donne.  Edmund  Waller 
(1606-1687)  stands  between  the  Puritan  Age  and  the  Res- 
toration. He  was  the  first  to  use  consistently  the  "closed" 

1  See,  for  instance,  the  "  Hymn  to  St.  Theresa  "  and  "  The  Flaming  Heart." 

2  So  called  from  Pindar,  the  greatest  lyric  poet  of  Greece. 

3  See,  for  instance,  "  Childhood,"  "  The  Retreat,"  "  Corruption,"  "  The  Bird,"  "  The 
Hidden  Flower,"  for  Vaughan's  mystic  interpretation  of  childhood  and  nature. 


194  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

couplet  which  dominated  our  poetry  for  the  next  century. 
By  this,  and  especially  by  his  influence  over  Dryden,  the 
greatest  figure  of  the  Restoration,  he  occupies  a  larger  place 
in  our  literature  than  a  reading  of  his  rather  tiresome  poetry 
would  seem  to  warrant. 

Of  all  these  poets,  each  of  whom  has  his  special  claim,  we 
can  consider  here  only  Donne  and  Herbert,  who  in  differ- 
ent ways  are  the  types  of  revolt  against  earlier  forms  and 
standards  of  poetry.  In  feeling  and  imagery  both  are  poets 
of  a  high  order,  but  in  style  and  expression  they  are  the 
leaders  of  the  fantastic  school  whose  influence  largely  domi- 
nated poetry  during  the  half  century  of  the  Puritan  period. 

JOHN  DONNE  (1573-1631) 

Life.  The  briefest  outline  of  Donne's  life  shows  its  intense  human 
interest.  He  was  born  in  London,  the  son  of  a  rich  iron  merchant, 
at  the  time  when  the  merchants  of  England  were  creating  a  new  and 
higher  kind  of  princes.  On  his  father's  side  he  came  from  an  old 
Welsh  family,  and  on  his  mother's  side  from  the  Heywoods  and  Sir 
Thomas  More's  family.  Both  families  were  Catholic,  and  in  his  early 
life  persecution  was  brought  near ;  for  his  brother  died  in  prison  for 
harboring  a  proscribed  priest,  and  his  own  education  could  not  be 
continued  in  Oxford  and  Cambridge  because  of  his  religion.  Such 
an  experience  generally  sets  a  man's  religious  standards  for  life ;  but 
presently  Donne,  as  he  studied  law  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  was  investigating 
the  philosophic  grounds  of  all  faith.  Gradually  he  left  the  church  in 
which  he  was  born,  renounced  all  denominations,  and  called  himself 
simply  Christian.  Meanwhile  he  wrote  poetry  and  shared  his  wealth 
with  needy  Catholic  relatives.  He  joined  the  expedition  of  Essex 
for  Cadiz  in  1596,  and  for  the  Azores  in  1597,  and  on  sea  and  in 
camp  found  time  to  write  poetry.  Two  of  his  best  poems,  "The 
Storm  "  and  "The  Calm,"  belong  to  this  period.  Next  he  traveled 
in  Europe  for  three  years,  but  occupied  himself  with  study  and 
poetry.  Returning  home,  he  became  secretary  to  Lord  Egerton, 
fell  in  love  with  the  latter's  young  niece,  Anne  More,  and  married 
her  ;  for  which  cause  Donne  was  cast  into  prison.  Strangely  enough 
his  poetical  work  at  this  time  is  not  a  song  of  youthful  romance,  but 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  195 

"The  Progress  of  the  Soul,"  a  study  of  transmigration.  Years  of 
wandering  and  poverty  followed,  until  Sir  George  More  forgave  the 
young  lovers  and  made  an  allowance  to  his  daughter.  Instead  of 
enjoying  his  new  comforts,  Donne  grew  more  ascetic  and  intellectual 
in  his  tastes.  He  refused  also  the  flattering  offer  of  entering  the 
Church  of  England  and  of  receiving  a  comfortable  "  living."  By  his 
"  Pseudo  Martyr  "  he  attracted  the  favor  of  James  I,  who  persuaded 
him  to  be  ordained,  yet  left  him  without  any  place  or  employment. 
When  his  wife  died  her  allowance  ceased,  and  Donne  was  left  with 
seven  children  in  extreme  poverty.  Then  he  became  a  preacher, 
rose  rapidly  by  sheer  intellectual  force  and  genius,  and  in  four  years 
was  the  greatest  of  English  preachers  and  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  Cathe- 
dral in  London.  There  he  "  carried  some  to  heaven  in  holy  raptures 
and  led  others  to  amend  their  lives,"  and  as  he  leans  over  the  pulpit 
with  intense  earnestness  is  likened  by  Izaak  Walton  to  "an  angel 
leaning  from  a  cloud." 

Here  is  variety  enough  to  epitomize  his  age,  and  yet  in  all  his  life, 
stronger  than  any  impression  of  outward  weal  or  woe,  is  the  sense  of 
mystery  that  surrounds  Donne.  In  all  his  work  one  finds  a  mystery, 
a  hiding  of  some  deep  thing  which  the  world  would  gladly  know  and 
share,  and  which  is  suggested  in  his  haunting  little  poem, "  The 
Undertaking": 

I  have  done  one  braver  thing 

Than  all  the  worthies  did  ; 

And  yet  a  braver  thence  doth  spring, 

Which  is,  to  keep  that  hid. 

Donne's  Poetry.  Donne's  poetry  is  so  uneven,  at  times  so 
startling  and  fantastic,  that  few  critics  would  care  to  rec- 
ommend it  to  others.  Only  a  few  will  read  his  works,  and  they 
must  be  left  to  their  own  browsing,  to  find  what  pleases 
them,  like  deer  which,  in  the  midst  of  plenty,  take  a  bite  here 
and  there  and  wander  on,  tasting  twenty  varieties  of  food  in 
an  hour's  feeding.  One  who  reads  much  will  probably  bewail 
Donne's  lack  of  any  consistent  style  or  literary  standard.  For 
instance,  Chaucer  and  Milton  are  as  different  as  two  poets  could 
well  be  ;  yet  the  work  of  each  is  marked  by  a  distinct  and  con- 
sistent style,  and  it  is  the  style  as  much  as  the  matter  which 
makes  the  Tales  or  the  Paradise  Lost  a  work  for  all  time. 


1 96  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Donne  threw  style  and  all  literary  standards  to  the  winds ; 
and  precisely  for  this  reason  he  is  forgotten,  though  his  great 
intellect  and  his  genius  had  marked  him  as  one  of  those  who 
should  do  things  "worthy  to  be  remembered."  While  the 
tendency  of  literature  is  to  exalt  style  at  the  expense  of 
thought,  the  world  has  many  men  and  women  who  exalt 
feeling  and  thought  above  expression  ;  and  to  these  Donne 
is  good  reading.  Browning  is  of  the  same  school,  and  com- 
pels attention.  While  Donne  played  havoc  with  Elizabethan 
style,  he  nevertheless  influenced  our  literature  in  the  way  of 
boldness  and  originality  ;  and  the  present  tendency  is  to  give 
him  a  larger  place,  nearer  to  the  few  great  poets,  than  he  has 
occupied  since  Ben  Jonson  declared  that  he  was  "the  first  poet 
of  the  world  in  some  things,"  but  likely  to  perish  "for  not  being 
understood."  For  to  much  of  his  poetry  we  must  apply  his 
own  satiric  verses  on  another's  crudities  : 

Infinite  work !  which  doth  so  far  extend 
That  none  can  study  it  to  any  end. 

GEORGE  HERBERT  (1593-1633) 

WO  day  most  calm,  most  bright,"  sang  George  Herbert,  and 
we  may  safely  take  that  single  line  as  expressive  of  the  whole 
spirit  of  his  writings.  Professor  Palmer,  whose  scholarly  edi- 
tion of  this  poet's  works  is  a  model  for  critics  and  editors, 
calls  Herbert  the  first  in  English  poetry  who  spoke  face  to 
face  with  God.  That  may  be  true ;  but  it  is  interesting  to 
note  that  not  a  poet  of  the  first  half  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, not  even  the  gayest  of  the  Cavaliers,  but  has  written 
some  noble  verse  of  prayer  or  aspiration,  which  expresses  the 
underlying  Puritan  spirit  of  his  age.  Herbert  is  the  greatest, 
the  most  consistent  of  them  all.  In  all  the  others  the  Puritan 
struggles  against  the  Cavalier,  or  the  Cavalier  breaks  loose 
from  the  restraining  Puritan  ;  but  in  Herbert  the  struggle  is 
past  and  peace  has  come.  That  his  life  was  not  all  calm, 
that  the  Puritan  in  him  had  struggled  desperately  before  it 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  197 

subdued  the  pride  and  idleness  of  the  Cavalier,  is  evident  to 
one  who  reads  between  his  lines : 

I  struck  the  board  and  cry'd,  No  more ! 

I  will  abroad. 

What  ?    Shall  I  ever  sigh  and  pine  ? 
My  lines  and  life  are  free,  free  as  the  road, 
Loose  as  the  wind. 

There  speaks  the  Cavalier  of  the  university  and  the  court ;  and 
as  one  reads  to  the  end  of  the  little  poem,  which  he  calls  by 
the  suggestive  name  of  "The  Collar,"  he  may  know  that  he 
is  reading  condensed  biography. 

Those  who  seek  for  faults,  for  strained  imagery  and  fantastic 
verse  forms  in  Herbert's  poetry,  will  find  them  in  abundance ; 
but  it  will  better  repay  the  reader  to  look  for  the  deep  thought 
and  fine  feeling  that  are  hidden  in  these  wonderful  religious 
lyrics,  even  in  those  that  appear  most  artificial.  The  fact  that 
Herbert's  reputation  was  greater,  at  times,  than  Milton's,  and 
that  his  poems  when  published  after  his  death  had  a  large  sale 
and  influence,  shows  certainly  that  he  appealed  to  the  men  of 
his  age  ;  and  his  poems  will  probably  be  read  and  appreciated, 
if  only  by  the  few,  just  so  long  as  men  are  strong  enough  to 
understand  the  Puritan's  spiritual  convictions. 

Life.  Herbert's  life  is  so  quiet  and  uneventful  that  to  relate  a  few 
biographical  facts  can  be  of  little  advantage.  Only  as  one  reads  the 
whole  story  by  Izaak  Walton  can  he  share  the  gentle  spirit  of  Her- 
bert's poetry.  He  was  born  at  Montgomery  Castle,1  Wales,  1593,  of 
a  noble  Welsh  family.  His  university  course  was  brilliant,  and  after 
graduation  he  waited  long  years  in  the  vain  hope  of  preferment  at 
court.  All  his  life  he  had  to  battle  against  disease,  and  this  is  un- 
doubtedly the  cause  of  the  long  delay  before  each  new  step  in  his 
course.  Not  till  he  was  thirty-seven  was  he  ordained  and  placed  over 
the  little  church  of  Bemerton.  How  he  lived  here  among  plain 
people,  in  "  this  happy  corner  of  the  Lord's  field,  hoping  all  things 
and  blessing  all  people,  asking  his  own  way  to  Sion  and  showing  others 

1  There  is  some  doubt  as  to  whether  he  was  born  at  the  Castle,  or  at  Black  Hall. 
Recent  opinion  inclines  to  the  latter  view, 


198  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  way,"  should  be  read  in  Walton.  It  is  a  brief  life,  less  than  three 
years  of  work  before  being  cut  off  by  consumption,  but  remarkable 
for  the  single  great  purpose  and  the  glorious  spiritual  strength  that 
shine  through  physical  weakness.  Just  before  his  death  he  gave  some 
manuscripts  to  a  friend,  and  his  message  is  worthy  of  John  Bunyan  : 

Deliver  this  little  book  to  my  dear  brother  Ferrar,  and  tell  him  he 
shall  find  in  it  a  picture  of  the  many  spiritual  conflicts  that  have  passed 
betwixt  God  and  my  soul  before  I  could  subject  mine  to  the  will  of  Jesus 
my  master,  in  whose  service  I  have  now  found  perfect  freedom.  Desire 
him  to  read  it ;  and  then,  if  he  can  think  it  may  turn  to  the  advantage  of 
any  dejected  poor  soul,  let  it  be  made  public  ;  if  not,  let  him  burn  it,  for 
I  and  it  are  less  than  the  least  of  God's  mercies. 

Herbert's  Poems.  Herbert's  chief  work,  The  Temple,  con- 
sists of  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  short  poems  suggested  by 
the  Church,  her  holidays  and  ceremonials,  and  the  experiences 
of  the  Christian  life.  The  first  poem,  "The  Church  Porch,"  is 
the  longest  and,  though  polished  with  a  care  that  foreshad- 
ows the  classic  school,  the  least  poetical.  It  is  a  wonderful 
collection  of  condensed  sermons,  wise  precepts,  and  moral 
lessons,  suggesting  Chaucer's  "  Good  Counsel,"  Pope's  "Es- 
say on  Man,"  and  Polonius's  advice  to  Laertes,  in  Hamlet ; 
only  it  is  more  packed  with  thought  than  any  of  these.  Of 
truth-speaking  he  says  : 

Dare  to  be  true.    Nothing  can  need  a  lie ; 

A  fault  which  needs  it  most  grows  two  thereby. 

and  of  calmness  in  argument : 

Calmness  is  great  advantage  :  he  that  lets 
Another  chafe  may  warm  him  at  his  fire. 

Among  the  remaining  poems  of  The  Temple  one  of  the 
most  suggestive  is  "The  Pilgrimage."  Here  in  six  short  stan- 
zas, every  line  close-packed  with  thought,  we  have  the  whole 
of  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress.  The  poem  was  written  prob- 
ably before  Bunyan  was  born,  but  remembering  the  wide 
influence  of  Herbert's  poetry,  it  is  an  interesting  question 
whether  Bunyan  received  the  idea  of  his  immortal  work  from 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  199 

this  "  Pilgrimage."  Probably  the  best  known  of  all  his  poems 
is  the  one  called  "The  Pulley,"  which  generally  appears,  how- 
ever, under  the  name  "Rest,"  or  "The  Gifts  of  God." 

When  God  at  first  made  man, 
Having  a  glass  of  blessings  standing  by, 
Let  us,  said  he,  pour  on  him  all  we  can : 
Let  the  world's  riches,  which  dispersed  lie, 
Contract  into  a  span. 

So  strength  first  made  a  way ; 

Then  beauty  flowed ;  then  wisdom,  honor,  pleasure. 
When  almost  all  was  out,  God  made  a  stay, 
Perceiving  that,  alone  of  all  his  treasure, 
Rest  in  the  bottom  lay. 

For,  if  I  should,  said  he, 
Bestow  this  jewel  also  on  my  creature, 
He  would  adore  my  gifts  instead  of  me, 
And  rest  in  Nature,  not  the  God  of  Nature : 
So  both  should  losers  be. 

Yet  let  him  keep  the  rest, 
But  keep  them  with  repining  restlessness : 
Let  him  be  rich  and  weary,  that  at  least, 
If  goodness  lead  him  not,  yet  weariness 
May  toss  him  to  my  breast. 

Among  the  poems  which  may  be  read  as  curiosities  of  ver- 
sification, and  which  arouse  the  wrath  of  the  critics  against 
the  whole  metaphysical  school,  are  those  like  "  Easter  Wings  " 
and  "The  Altar,"  which  suggest  in  the  printed  form  of  the 
poem  the  thing  of  which  the  poet  sings.  More  ingenious  is 
the  poem  in  which  rime  is  made  by  cutting  off  the  first  letter 
of  a  preceding  word,  as  in  the  five  stanzas  of  "  Paradise  "  : 

I  bless  thee,  Lord,  because  I  grow 
Among  thy  trees,  which  in  a  row 
To  thee  both  fruit  and  order  ow. 

And  more  ingenious  still  are  odd  conceits  like  the  poem 
"  Heaven,"  in  which  Echo,  by  repeating  the  last  syllable  of 
each  line,  gives  an  answer  to  the  poet's  questions. 


200  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

The  Cavalier  Poets.  In  the  literature  of  any  age  there  are 
generally  found  two  distinct  tendencies.  The  first  expresses 
the  dominant  spirit  of  the  times ;  the  second,  a  secret  or  an 
open  rebellion.  So  in  this  age,  side  by  side  with  the  serious 
and  rational  Puritan,  lives  the  gallant  and  trivial  Cavalier. 
The  Puritan  finds  expression  in  the  best  poetry  of  the  period, 
from  Donne  to  Milton,  and  in  the  prose  of  Baxter  and  Bunyan  ; 
the  Cavalier  in  a  small  group  of  poets,  —  Herrick,  Lovelace, 
Suckling,  and  Carew,  —  who  write  songs  generally  in  lighter 
vein,  gay,  trivial,  often  licentious,  but  who  cannot  altogether 
escape  the  tremendous  seriousness  of  Puritanism. 

Thomas  Carew  (1598  ?-i639?).  Carew  may  be  called  the 
inventor  of  Cavalier  love  poetry,  and  to  him,  more  than  to  any 
other,  is  due  the  peculiar  combination  of  the  sensual  and  the 
religious  which  marked  most  of  the  minor  poets  of  the  seven- 
teenth century.  His  poetry  is  the  Spenserian  pastoral  stripped 
of  its  refinement  of  feeling  and  made  direct,  coarse,  vigorous. 
His  poems,  published  in  1640,  are  generally,  like  his  life, 
trivial  or  sensual ;  but  here  and  there  is  found  one,  like  the 
following,  which  indicates  that  with  the  Metaphysical  and 
Cavalier  poets  a  new  and  stimulating  force  had  entered 
English  literature : 

Ask  me  no  more  where  Jove  bestows, 
When  June  is  past,  the  fading  rose,  . 
For  in  your  beauty's  orient  deep 
These  flowers,  as  in  their  causes,  sleep. 

Ask  me  no  more  where  those  stars  light 
That  downwards  fall  in  dead  of  night, 
For  in  your  eyes  they  sit,  and  there 
Fixed  become  as  in  their  sphere. 

Ask  me  no  more  if  east  or  west 
The  phoenix  builds  her  spicy  nest, 
For  unto  you  at  last  she  flies, 
And  in  your  fragrant  bosom  dies. 

Robert  Herrick  (1591-1674).  Herrick  is  the  true  Cavalier, 
gay,  devil-may-care  in  disposition,  but  by  some  freak  of  fate 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  2OI 

a  clergyman  of  Dean  Prior,  in  South  Devon,  a  county  made 
famous  by  him  and  Blackmore.  Here,  in  a  country  parish,  he 
lived  discontentedly,  longing  for  the  joys  of  London  and  the 
Mermaid  Tavern,  his  bachelor  establishment  consisting  of  an 
old  housekeeper,  a  cat,  a  dog,  a  goose,  a  tame  lamb,  one  hen, — 
for  which  he  thanked  God  in  poetry  because  she  laid  an  egg 
every  day,  —  and  a  pet  pig  that  drank  beer  with  Herrick  out 
of  a  tankard.  With  admirable  good  nature,  Herrick  made  the 
best  of  these  uncongenial  surroundings.  He  watched  with 
sympathy  the  country  life  about  him  and  caught  its  spirit  in 
many  lyrics,  a  few  of  which,  like  "  Corinna's  Maying,"  "  Gather 
ye  rosebuds  while  ye  may,"  and  "To  Daffodils,"  are  among  the 
best  known  in  our  language.  His  poems  cover  a  wide  range, 
from  trivial  love  songs,  pagan  in  spirit,  to  hymns  of  deep 
religious  feeling.  Only  the  best  of  his  poems  should  be  read  ; 
and  these  are  remarkable  for  their  exquisite  sentiment  and 
their  graceful,  melodious  expression.  The  rest,  since  they 
reflect  something  of  the  coarseness  of  his  audience,  may  be 
passed  over  in  silence. 

Late  in  life  Herrick  published  his  one  book,  Hesperides 
and  Noble  Numbers  (1648).  The  latter  half  contains  his 
religious  poems,  and  one  has  only  to  read  there  the  remark- 
able "Litany"  to  see  how  the  religious  terror  that  finds 
expression  in  Bunyan's  Grace  Abounding  could  master  even 
the  most  careless  of  Cavalier  singers. 

Suckling  and  Lovelace.  Sir  John  Suckling  ( 1 609-1 642)  was 
one  of  the  most  brilliant  wits  of  the  court  of  Charles  I,  who  wrote 
poetry  as  he  exercised  a  horse  or  fought  a  duel,  because  it  was 
considered  a  gentleman's  accomplishment  in  those  days.  His 
poems,  "struck  from  his  wild  life  like  sparks  from  his  rapier," 
are  utterly  trivial,  and,  even  in  his  best  known  "Ballad  Upon  a 
Wedding,"  rarely  rise  above  mere  doggerel.  It  is  only  the  ro- 
mance of  his  life  —  his  rich,  brilliant,  careless  youth,  and  his 
poverty  and  suicide  in  Paris,  whither  he  fled  because  of  his  devo- 
tion to  the  Stuarts  —  that  keeps  his  name  alive  in  our  literature. 


202  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

In  his  life  and  poetry  Sir  Richard  Lovelace  (1618-1658) 
offers  a  remarkable  parallel  to  Suckling,  and  the  two  are  often 
classed  together  as  perfect  representatives  of  the  followers  of 
King  Charles.  Lovelace's  Lucasta,  a  volume  of  love  lyrics,  is 
generally  on  a  higher  plane  than  Suckling's  work ;  and  a  few 
of  the  poems  like  "To  Lucasta," and  "To  Althea,from  Prison," 
deserve  the  secure  place  they  have  won.  In  the  latter  occur 
the  oft-quoted  lines  : 

Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 

Nor  iron  bars  a  cage  ; 
Minds  innocent  and  quiet  take 

That  for  an  hermitage. 
If  I  have  freedom  in  my  love, 

And  in  my  soul  am  free, 
Angels  alone  that  soar  above 

Enjoy  such  liberty. 

JOHN  MILTON  (1608-1674) 

Thy  soul  was  like  a  star  and  dwelt  apart ; 

Thou  hadst  a  voice  whose  sound  was  like  the  sea  — 

Pure  as  the  naked  heavens,  majestic,  free ; 

So  didst  thou  travel  on  life's  common  way 

In  cheerful  godliness:  and  yet  thy  heart 

The  lowliest  duties  on  herself  did  lay. 

(From  Wordsworth's  "  Sonnet  on  Milton  ") 

Shakespeare  and  Milton  are  the  two  figures  that  tower 
conspicuously  above  the  goodly  fellowship  of  men  who  have 
made  our  literature  famous.  Each  is  representative  of  the 
age  that  produced  him,  and  together  they  form  a  suggestive 
commentary  upon  the  two  forces  that  rule  our  humanity,  — 
the  force  of  impulse  and  the  force  of  a  fixed  purpose.  Shake- 
speare is  the  poet  of  impulse,  of  the  loves,  hates,  fears,  jeal- 
ousies, and  ambitions  that  swayed  the  men  of  his  age.  Milton 
is  the  poet  of  steadfast  will  and  purpose,  who  moves  like  a 
god  amid  the  fears  and  hopes  and  changing  impulses  of  the 
world,  regarding  them  as  trivial  and  momentary  things  that 
can  never  swerve  a  great  soul  from  its  course. 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  203 

It  is  well  to  have  some  such  comparison  in  mind  while 
studying  the  literature  of  the  Elizabethan  and  the  Puritan  Age. 
While  Shakespeare  and  Ben  Jonson  and  their  unequaled  com- 
pany of  wits  make  merry  at  the  Mermaid  Tavern,  there  is 
already  growing  up  on  the  same  London  street  a  poet  who 
shall  bring  a  new  force  into  literature,  who  shall  add  to  the 
Renaissance  culture  and  love  of  beauty  the  tremendous  moral 
earnestness  of  the  Puritan.  Such  a  poet  must  begin,  as  the 
Puritan  always  began,  with  his  own  soul,  to  discipline  and 
enlighten  it,  before  expressing  its  beauty  in  literature.  "  He 
that  would  hope  to  write  well  hereafter  in  laudable  things," 
says  Milton,  "ought  himself  to  be  a  true  poem ;  that  is,  a 
composition  and  pattern  of  the  best  and  most  honorable 
things."  Here  is  a  new  proposition  in  art  which  suggests  the 
lofty  ideal  of  Fra  Angelico,  that  before  one  can  write  litera- 
ture, which  is  the  expression  of  the  ideal,  he  must  first  de- 
velop in  himself  the  ideal  man.  Because  Milton  is  human  he 
must  know  the  best  in  humanity;  therefore  he  studies,  giving 
his  days  to  music,  art,  and  literature,  his  nights  to  profound 
research  and  meditation.  But  because  he  knows  that  man  is 
more  than  mortal  he  also  prays,  depending,  as  he  tells  us, 
on  "devout  prayer  to  that  Eternal  Spirit  who  can  enrich 
with  all  utterance  and  knowledge."  Such  a  poet  is  already 
in  spirit  far  beyond  the  Renaissance,  though  he  lives  in  the 
autumn  of  its  glory  and  associates  with  its  literary  masters. 
"There  is  a  spirit  in  man,"  says  the  old  Hebrew  poet,  "and 
the  inspiration  of  the  Almighty  giveth  him  understanding." 
Here,  in  a  word,  is  the  secret  of  Milton's  life  and  writing. 
Hence  his  long  silences,  years  passing  without  a  word ;  and 
when  he  speaks  it  is  like  the  voice  of  a  prophet  who  begins 
with  the  sublime  announcement,  "The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is 
upon  me."  Hence  his  style,  producing  an  impression  of  sub- 
limity, which  has  been  marked  for  wonder  by  every  historian 
of  our  literature.  His  style  was  unconsciously  sublime  because 
he  lived  and  thought  consciously  in  a  sublime  atmosphere. 


204 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


Life  of  Milton.  Milton  is  like  an  ideal  in  the  soul,  like  a  lofty 
mountain  on  the  horizon.  We  never  attain  the  ideal ;  we  never  climb 
the  mountain ;  but  life  would  be  inexpressibly  poorer  were  either  to 
be  taken  away. 

From  childhood  Milton's  parents  set  him  apart  for  the  attainment 
of  noble  ends,  and  so  left  nothing  to  chance  in  the  matter  of  train- 
ing. His  father,  John  Milton,  is  said  to  have  turned  Puritan  while 
a  student  at  Oxford  and  to  have  been  disinherited  by  his  family; 

whereupon  he  settled  in 
London  and  prospered 
greatly  as  a  scrivener, 
that  is,  a  kind  of  notary. 
In  character  the  elder 
Milton  was  a  rare  com- 
bination of  scholar  and 
business  man,  a  radical 
Puritan  in  politics  and 
religion,  yet  a  musician, 
whose  hymn  tunes  are 
still  sung,  and  a  lover  of 
art  and  literature.  The 
poet's  mother  was  a 
woman  of  refinement 
and  social  grace,  with  a 
deep  interest  in  religion 
and  in  local  charities. 
So  the  boy  grew  up  in  a 
home  which  combined 
the  culture  of  the  Renaissance  with  the  piety  and  moral  strength  of 
early  Puritanism.  He  begins,  therefore,  as  the  heir  of  one  great  age 
and  the  prophet  of  another. 

Apparently  the  elder  Milton  shared  Bacon's  dislike  for  the  educa- 
tional methods  of  the  time  and  so  took  charge  of  his  son's  training, 
encouraging  his  natural  tastes,  teaching  him  music,  and  seeking  out 
a  tutor  who  helped  the  boy  to  what  he  sought  most  eagerly,  not  the 
grammar  and  mechanism  of  Greek  and  Latin  but  rather  the  stories, 
the  ideals,  the  poetry  that  hide  in  their  incomparable  literatures.  At 
twelve  years  we  find  the  boy  already  a  scholar  in  spirit,  unable  to 
rest  till  after  midnight  because  of  the  joy  with  which  his  study 
was  rewarded.  From  boyhood  two  great  principles  seem  to  govern 


JOHN   MILTON 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  205 

Milton's  career :  one,  the  love  of  beauty,  of  music,  art,  literature, 
and  indeed  of  every  form  of  human  culture ;  the  other,  a  steadfast 
devotion  to  duty  as  the  highest  object  in  human  life. 

A  brief  course  at  the  famous  St.  Paul's  school  in  London  was  the 
prelude  to  Milton's  entrance  to  Christ's  College,  Cambridge.  Here 
again  he  followed  his  natural  bent  and,  like  Bacon,  found  himself 
often  in  opposition  to  the  authorities.  Aside  from  some  Latin  poems, 
the  most  noteworthy  song  of  this  period  of  Milton's  life  is  his  splen- 
did ode,  "  On  the  Morning  of  Christ's  Nativity,"  which  was  begun 
on  Christmas  day,  1629.  Milton,  while  deep  in  the  classics,  had  yet 
a  greater  love  for  his  native  literature.  Spenser  was  for  years  his 
master ;  in  his  verse  we  find  every  evidence  of  his  "  loving  study  "  of 
Shakespeare,  and  his  last  great  poems  show  clearly  how  he  had  been 
influenced  by  Fletcher's  Christ's  Victory  and  Triumph.  But  it  is 
significant  that  this  first  ode  rises  higher  than  anything  of  the  kind 
produced  in  the  famous  Age  of  Elizabeth. 

While  at  Cambridge  it  was  the  desire  of  his  parents  that  Milton 
should  take  orders  in  the  Church  of  England ;  but  the  intense  love 
of  mental  liberty  which  stamped  the  Puritan  was  too  strong  within 
him,  and  he  refused  to  consider  the  "  oath  of  servitude,"  as  he  called 
it,  which  would  mark  his  ordination.  Throughout  his  life  Milton, 
though  profoundly  religious,  held  aloof  from  the  strife  of  sects.  In 
belief,  he  belonged  to  the  extreme  Puritans,  called  Separatists,  In- 
dependents, Congregationalists,  of  which  our  Pilgrim  Fathers  are 
the  great  examples;  but  he  refused  to  be  bound  by  any  creed  or 
church  discipline : 

As  ever  in  my  great  Task-Master's  eye. 

In  this  last  line  of  one  of  his  sonnets 1  is  found  Milton's  rejection  of 
every  form  of  outward  religious  authority  in  face  of  the  supreme 
Puritan  principle,  the  liberty  of  the  individual  soul  before  God. 

A  long  period  of  retirement  followed  Milton's  withdrawal  from  the 
university  in  1632.  At  his  father's  country  home  in  Horton  he  gave 
himself  up  for  six  years  to  solitary  reading  and  study,  roaming  over 
the  wide  fields  of  Greek,  Latin,  Hebrew,  Spanish,  French,  Italian, 
and  English  literatures,  and  studying  hard  at  mathematics,  science, 
theology,  and  music,  —  a  curious  combination.  To  his  love  of  music 
we  owe  the  melody  of  all  his  poetry,  and  we  note  it  in  the  rhythm 
and  balance  which  make  even  his  mighty  prose  arguments  harmonious. 

1  "  On  his  being  arrived  to  the  Age  of  Twenty-three." 


206  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

In  "Lycidas,"  "L'Allegro,"  "II  Penseroso,"  "Arcades,"  "  Comus," 
and  a  few  "Sonnets,"  we  have  the  poetic  results  of  this  retirement  at 
Horton, — few,  indeed,  but  the  most  perfect  of  their  kind  that  our 
literature  has  recorded. 

Out  of  solitude,  where  his  talent  was  perfected,  Milton  entered 
the  busy  world  where  his  character  was  to  be  proved  to  the  utmost. 
From  Horton  he  traveled  abroad,  through  France,  Switzerland,  and 
Italy,  everywhere  received  with  admiration  for  his  learning  and  cour- 
tesy, winning  the  friendship  of  the  exiled  Dutch  scholar  Grotius,  in 
Paris,  and  of  Galileo  in  his  sad  imprisonment  in  Florence.1  He 
was  on  his  way  to  Greece  when  news  reached  him  of  the  break  be- 
tween king  and  parliament.  With  the  practical  insight  which  never 
deserted  him  Milton  saw  clearly  the  meaning  of  the  news.  His  cordial 
reception  in  Italy,  so  chary  of  praise  to  anything  not  Italian,  had  re- 
awakened in  Milton  the  old  desire  to  write  an  epic  which  England 
would  "not  willingly  let  die";  but  at  thought  of  the  conflict  for 
human  freedom  all  his  dreams  were  flung  to  the  winds.  He  gave  up 
his  travels  and  literary  ambitions  and  hurried  to  England.  "  For  I 
thought  it  base,"  he  says,  "  to  be  traveling  at  my  ease  for  intellectual 
culture  while  my  fellow-countrymen  at  home  were  righting  for  liberty." 

Then  for  nearly  twenty  years  the  poet  of  great  achievement  and 
still  greater  promise  disappears.  We  hear  no  more  songs,  but  only 
the  prose  denunciations  and  arguments  which  are  as  remarkable  as 
his  poetry.  In  all  our  literature  there  is  nothing  more  worthy  of  the 
Puritan  spirit  than  this  laying  aside  of  personal  ambitions  in  order  to 
join  in  the  struggle  for  human  liberty.  In  his  best  known  sonnet,  "  On 
His  Blindness,"  which  reflects  his  grief,  not  at  darkness,  but  at  his 
abandoned  dreams,  we  catch  the  sublime  spirit  of  this  renunciation. 

Milton's  opportunity  to  serve  came  in  the  crisis  of  1649.  The 
king  had  been  sent  to  the  scaffold,  paying  the  penalty  of  his  own 
treachery,  and  England  sat  shivering  at  its  own  deed,  like  a  child  or 
a  Russian  peasant  who  in  sudden  passion  resists  unbearable  brutality 
and  then  is  afraid  of  the  consequences.  Two  weeks  of  anxiety,  of 
terror  and  silence  followed;  then  appeared  Milton's  Tenure  of  Kings 
and  Magistrates.  To  England  it  was  like  the  coming  of  a  strong 
man,  not  only  to  protect  the  child,  but  to  justify  his  blow  for  liberty. 
Kings  no  less  than  people  are  subject  to  the  eternal  principle  of  law  ; 

1  **  It  is  remarkable,"  says  Lamartine,  "  how  often  in  the  libraries  of  Italian  princes 
and  in  the  correspondence  of  great  Italian  writers  of  this  period  you  find  mentioned  the 
name  and  fame  of  this  young  Englishman." 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  207 

the  divine  right  of  a  people  to  defend  and  protect  themselves, — 
that  was  the  mighty  argument  which  calmed  a  people's  dread  and  pro- 
claimed that  a  new  man  and  a  new  principle  had  arisen  in  England. 
Milton  was  called  to  be  Secretary  for  Foreign  Tongues  in  the  new 
government ;  and  for  the  next  few  years,  until  the  end  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, there  were  two  leaders  in  England,  Cromwell  the  man  of 
action,  Milton  the  man  of  thought.  It  is  doubtful  to  which  of  the 
two  humanity  owes  most  for  its  emancipation  from  the  tyranny  of 
kings  and  prelates. 

Two  things  of  personal  interest  deserve  mention  in  this  period  of 
Milton's  life,  his  marriage  and  his  blindness.  In  1643  he  married  Mary 
Powell,  a  shallow,  pleasure-loving  girl,  the  daughter  of  a  Royalist ; 
and  that  was  the  beginning  of  sorrows.  After  a  month,  tiring  of  the 
austere  life  of  a  Puritan  household,  she  abandoned  her  husband, 
who,  with  the  same  radical  reasoning  with  which  he  dealt  with  affairs 
of  state,  promptly  repudiated  the  marriage.  His  Doctrine  and  Dis- 
cipline of  Divorce  and  his  Tetrachordon  are  the  arguments  to  justify 
his  position ;  but  they  aroused  a  storm  of  protest  in  England,  and 
they  suggest  to  a  modern  reader  that  Milton  was  perhaps  as  much  to 
blame  as  his  wife,  and  that  he  had  scant  understanding  of  a  woman's 
nature.  When  his  wife,  fearing  for  her  position,  appeared  before  him 
in  tears,  all  his  ponderous  arguments  were  swept  aside  by  a  generous 
impulse ;  and  though  the  marriage  was  never  a  happy  one,  Milton 
never  again  mentioned  his  wife's  desertion.  The  scene  in  Paradise 
Losf,  where  Eve  comes  weeping  to  Adam,  seeking  peace  and  pardon, 
is  probably  a  reflection  of  a  scene  in  Milton's  own  household.  His 
wife  died  in  1653,  and  a  few  years  later  he  married  another,  whom 
we  remember  for  the  sonnet,  "  Methought  I  saw  my  late  espoused 
saint,"  in  which  she  is  celebrated.  She  died  after  fifteen  months, 
and  in  1663  he  married  a  third  wife,  who  helped  the  blind  old  man 
to  manage  his  poor  household. 

From  boyhood  the  strain  on  the  poet's  eyes  had  grown  more 
and  more  severe ;  but  even  when  his  sight  was  threatened  he  held 
steadily  to  his  purpose  of  using  his  pen  in  the  service  of  his  country. 
During  the  king's  imprisonment  a  book  appeared  called  Eikon  J3a- 
silike  (Royal  Image),  giving  a  rosy  picture  of  the  king's  piety,  and 
condemning  the  Puritans.  The  book  speedily  became  famous  and 
was  the  source  of  all  Royalist  arguments  against  the  Commonwealth. 
In  1649  appeared  Milton's  Eikonoklastes  (Image  Breaker),  which 
demolished  the  flimsy  arguments  of  the  Eikon  Basilike  as  a  charge 


208  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  Cromwell's  Ironsides  had  overwhelmed  the  king's  followers.  After 
the  execution  of  the  king  appeared  another  famous  attack  upon  the 
Puritans,  Defensio  Regia  pro  Carlo  /,  instigated  by  Charles  II,  who 
was  then  living  in  exile.  It  was  written  in  Latin  by  Salmasius,  a 
Dutch  professor  at  Leyden,  and  was  hailed  by  the  Royalists  as  an  in- 
vincible argument.  By  order  of  the  Council  of  State  Milton  prepared 
a  reply.  His  eyesight  had  sadly  failed,  and  he  was  warned  that  any 
further  strain  would  be  disastrous.  His  reply  was  characteristic  of 
the  man  and  the  Puritan.  As  he  had  once  sacrificed  his  poetry,  so  he 
was  now  ready,  he  said,  to  sacrifice  his  eyes  also  on  the  altar  of  Eng- 
lish liberty.  His  magnificent  Defensio  pro  Populo  Anglicano  is  one 
of  the  most  masterly  controversial  works  in  literature.  The  power  of 
the  press  was  already  strongly  felt  in  England,  and  the  new  Com- 
monwealth owed  its  standing  partly  to  Milton's  prose,  and  partly  to 
Cromwell's  policy.  The  Defensio  was  the  last  work  that  Milton  saw. 
Blindness  fell  upon  him  ere  it  was  finished,  and  from  1652  until  his 
death  he  labored  in  total  darkness. 

The  last  part  of  Milton's  life  is  a  picture  of  solitary  grandeur  un- 
equaled  in  literary  history.  With  the  Restoration  all  his  labors  and 
sacrifices  for  humanity  were  apparently  wasted.  From  his  retirement 
he  could  hear  the  bells  and  the  shouts  that  welcomed  back  a  vicious 
monarch,  whose  first  act  was  to  set  his  foot  upon  his  people's  neck. 
Milton  was,  immediately  marked  for  persecution ;  he  remained  for 
months  in  hiding ;  he  was  reduced  to  poverty,  and  his  books  were 
burned  by  the  public  hangman.  His  daughters,  upon  whom  he 
depended  in  his  blindness,  rebelled  at  the  task  of  reading  to  him 
and  recording  his  thoughts.  In  the  midst  of  all  these  sorrows  we 
understand,  in  Samson,  the  cry  of  the  blind  champion  of  Israel : 

Now  blind,  disheartened,  shamed,  dishonored,  quelled, 

To  what  can  I  be  useful  ?   wherein  serve 

My  nation,  and  the  work  from  Heaven  imposed? 

But  to  sit  idle  on  the  household  hearth, 

A  burdenous  drone;  to  visitants  a  gaze, 

Or  pitied  object. 

Milton's  answer  is  worthy  of  his  own  great  life.  Without  envy  or 
bitterness  he  goes  back  to  the  early  dream  of  an  immortal  poem  and 
begins  with  superb  consciousness  of  power  to  dictate  his  great  epic. 

Paradise  Lost  was  finished  in  1665,  after  seven  years'  labor  in 
darkness.  With  great  difficulty  he  found  a  publisher,  and  for  the 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  209 

great  work,  now  the  most  honored  poem  in  our  literature,  he  received 
less  than  certain  verse  makers  of  our  day  receive  for  a  little  song  in 
one  of  our  popular  magazines.  Its  success  was  immediate,  though, 
like  all  his  work,  it  met  with  venomous  criticism.  Dryden  summed 
up  the  impression  made  on  thoughtful  minds  of  his  time  when  he 
said,  "This  man  cuts  us  all  out,  and  the  ancients  too."  Thereafter  a 
bit  of  sunshine  came  into  his  darkened  home,  for  the  work  stamped 
him  as  one  of  the  world's  great  writers,  and  from  England  and  the  Con- 
tinent pilgrims  came  in  increasing  numbers  to  speak  their  gratitude. 
The  next  year  Milton  began  his  Paradise  Regained.  In  1671  ap- 
peared his  last  important  work,  Samson  Agonistes^  the  most  powerful 
dramatic  poem  on  the  Greek  model  which  our  language  possesses. 
The  picture  of  Israel's  mighty  champion,  blind,  alone,  afflicted  by 
thoughtless  enemies  but  preserving  a  noble  ideal  to  the  end,  is  a 
fitting  close  to  the  life  work  of  the  poet  himself.  For  years  he  was 
silent,  dreaming  who  shall  say  what  dreams  in  his  darkness,  and  say- 
ing cheerfully  to  his  friends,  "  Still  guides  the  heavenly  vision."  He 
died  peacefully  in  1674,  the  most  sublime  and  the  most  lonely  figure 
in  our  literature. 

Milton's  Early  Poetry.1  In  his  early  work  Milton  appears 
as  the  inheritor  of  all  that  was  best  in  Elizabethan  literature, 
and  his  first  work,  the  ode  "  On  the  Morning  of  Christ's  Na- 
tivity," approaches  the  high-water  mark  of  lyric  poetry  in 
England.  In  the  next  six  years,  from  1631  to  1637,  ne  wrote 
but  Jittle,  scarcely  more  than  two  thousand  lines,  but  these 
are  among  the  most  exquisite  and  the  most  perfectly  finished 
in  our  language. 

"  L' Allegro"  and  "II  Penseroso"  are  twin  poems,  contain- 
ing many  lines  and  short  descriptive  passages  which  linger  in 
the  mind  like  strains  of  music,  and  which  are  known 
and  loved  wherever  English  is  spoken.  "  L' Allegro" 
(the  joyous  or  happy  man)  is  like  an  excursion  into  the  Eng- 
lish fields  at  sunrise.  The  air  is  sweet ;  birds  are  singing ;  a 

1  In  Milton's  work  we  see  plainly  the  progressive  influence  of  the  Puritan  Age.  Thus 
his  Horton  poems  are  joyous,  almost  Elizabethan  in  character;  his  prose  is  stern,  mili- 
tant, unyielding,  like  the  Puritan  in  his  struggle  for  liberty ;  his  later  poetry,  following 
the  apparent  failure  of  Puritanism  in  the  Restoration,  has  a  note  of  sadness,  yet  pro- 
claims the  eternal  principles  of  liberty  and  justice  for  which  he  had  lived. 


210  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

multitude  of  sights,  sounds,  fragrances,  fill  all  the  senses  ;  and 
to  this  appeal  of  nature  the  soul  of  man  responds  by  being 
happy,  seeing  in  every  flower  and  hearing  in  every  harmony 
some  exquisite  symbol  of  human  life.  "II  Penseroso"  takes 
us  over  the  same  ground  at  twilight  and  at  moonrise.  The 
air  is  still  fresh  and  fragrant ;  the  symbolism  is,  if  possible, 
more  tenderly  beautiful  than  before ;  but  the  gay  mood  is 
gone,  though  its  memory  lingers  in  the  afterglow  of  the  sun- 
set. A  quiet  thoughtfulness  takes  the  place  of  the  pure,  joyous 
sensation  of  the  morning,  a  thoughtfulness  which  is  not  sad, 
though  like  all  quiet  moods  it  is  akin  to  sadness,  and  which 
sounds  the  deeps  of  human  emotion  in  the  presence  of  nature. 
To  quote  scattered  lines  of  either  poem  is  to  do  injustice  to 
both.  They  should  be  read  in  their  entirety  the  same  day,  one 
at  morning,  the  other  at  eventide,  if  one  is  to  appreciate  their 
beauty  and  suggestiveness. 

The  "Masque  of  Comus"  is  in  many  respects  the  most 
perfect  of  Milton's  poems.  It  was  written  in  1634  to  be  per- 
formed at  Ludlow  Castle  before  the  earl  of  Bridge- 
water  and  his  friends.  There  is  a  tradition  that  the 
earl's  three  children  had  been  lost  in  the  woods,  and,  whether 
true  or  not,  Milton  takes  the  simple  theme  of  a  person  lost, 
calls  in  an  Attendant  Spirit  to  protect  the  wanderer,  and  out 
of  this,  with  its  natural  action  and  melodious  songs,  makes 
the  most  exquisite  pastoral  drama  that  we  possess.  In  form 
it  is  a  masque,  like  those  gorgeous  products  of  the  Elizabethan 
age  of  which  Ben  Jonson  was  the  master.  England  had  bor- 
rowed the  idea  of  the  masque  from  Italy  and  had  used  it  as 
the  chief  entertainment  at  all  festivals,  until  it  had  become 
to  the  nobles  of  England  what  the  miracle  play  had  been  to 
the  common  people  of  a  previous  generation.  Milton,  with 
his  strong  Puritan  spirit,  could  not  be  content  with  the  mere 
entertainment  of  an  idle  hour.  "Comus"  has  the  gorgeous 
scenic  effects,  the  music  and  dancing  of  other  masques  ;  but 
its  moral  purpose  and  its  ideal  teachings  are  unmistakable, 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  211 

"  The  Triumph  of  Virtue"  would  be  a  better  name  for  this  per- 
fect little  masque,  for  its  theme  is  that  virtue  and  innocence 
can  walk  through  any  peril  of  this  world  without  permanent 
harm.  This  eternal  triumph  of  good  over  evil  is  proclaimed 
by  the  Attendant  Spirit  who  has  protected  the  innocent  in  this 
life  and  who  now  disappears  from  mortal  sight  to  resume  its 

life  of  joy  : 

Mortals,  that  would  follow  me, 

Love  Virtue  ;  she  alone  is  free. 
She  can  teach  ye  how  to  climb 
Higher  than  the  sphery  chime  ; 
Or  if  Virtue  feeble  were, 
Heaven  itself  would  stoop  to  her. 

While  there  are  undoubted  traces  of  Jonson  and  John  Fletcher 
in  Milton's  "  Comus,"  the  poem  far  surpasses  its  predecessors 
in  the  airy  beauty  and  melody  of  its  verses. 

In  the  next  poem,  "Lycidas,"  a  pastoral  elegy  written  in 
1637,  and  the  last  of  his  Horton  poems,  Milton  is  no  longer 
the  inheritor  of  the  old  age,  but  the  prophet  of  a 
new.  A  college  friend,  Edward  King,  had  been 
drowned  in  the  Irish  Sea,  and  Milton  follows  the  poetic  cus- 
tom of  his  age  by  representing  both  his  friend  and  himself  in 
the  guise  of  shepherds  leading  the  pastoral  life.  Milton  also 
uses  all  the  symbolism  of  his  predecessors,  introducing  fauns, 
satyrs,  and  sea  nymphs  ;  but  again  the  Puritan  is  not  content 
with  heathen  symbolism,  and  so  introduces  a  new  symbol  of 
the  Christian  shepherd  responsible  for  the  souls  of  men,  whom 
he  likens  to  hungry  sheep  that  look  up  and  are  not  fed.  The 
Puritans  and  Royalists  at  this  time  were  drifting  rapidly  apart, 
and  Milton  uses  his  new  symbolism  to  denounce  the  abuses 
that  had  crept  into  the  Church.  In  any  other  poet  this  moral 
teaching  would  hinder  the  free  use  of  the  imagination ;  but 
Milton  seems  equal  to  the  task  of  combining  high  moral  pur- 
pose with  the  noblest  poetry.  In  its  exquisite  finish  and  ex- 
haustless  imagery  "  Lycidas"  surpasses  most  of  the  poetry  of 
what  is  often  called  the  pagan  Renaissance. 


212  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Besides  these  well-known  poems,  Milton  wrote  in  this  early 
period  a  fragmentary  masque  called  "Arcades";  several  Latin 
poems  which,  like  his  English,  are  exquisitely  fin- 
ished; and  his  famous  "Sonnets,"  which  brought 
this  Italian  form  of  verse  nearly  to  the  point  of  perfection. 
In  them  he  seldom  wrote  of  love,  the  usual  subject  with  his 
predecessors,  but  of  patriotism,  duty,  music,  and  subjects  of 
political  interest  suggested  by  the  struggle  into  which  Eng- 
land was  drifting.  Among  these  sonnets  each  reader  must 
find  his  own  favorites.  Those  best  known  and  most  frequently 
quoted  are  "On  His  Deceased  Wife,"  "To  the  Nightingale," 
"On  Reaching  the  Age  of  Twenty-three,"  "The  Massacre  in 
Piedmont,"  and  the  two  "On  His  Blindness." 

Milton's  Prose.  Of  Milton's  prose  works  there  are  many 
divergent  opinions,  ranging  from  Macaulay's  unbounded  praise 
to  the  condemnation  of  some  of  our  modern  critics.  From  a 
literary  view  point  Milton's  prose  would  be  stronger  if  less 
violent,  and  a  modern  writer  would  hardly  be  excused  for 
using  his  language  or  his  methods ;  but  we  must  remember 
the  times  and  the  methods  of  his  opponents.  In  his  fiery  zeal 
against  injustice  the  poet  is  suddenly  dominated  by  the  sol- 
dier's spirit.  He  first  musters  his  facts  in  battalions,  and 
charges  upon  the  enemy  to  crush  and  overpower  without 
mercy.  For  Milton  hates  injustice  and,  because  it  is  an 
enemy  of  his  people,  he  cannot  and  will  not  spare  it.  When 
the  victory  is  won,  he  exults  in  a  paean  of  victory  as  soul- 
stirring  as  the  Song  of  Deborah.  He  is  the  poet  again,  spite 
of  himself,  and  his  mind  fills  with  magnificent  images.  Even 
with  a  subject  so  dull,  so  barren  of  the  bare  possibilities  of 
poetry,  as  his  "Animadversions  upon  the  Remonstrants'  De- 
fense," he  breaks  out  into  an  invocation,  "Oh,  Thou  that 
sittest  in  light  and  glory  unapproachable,  parent  of  angels  and 
men,"  which  is  like  a  chapter  from  the  Apocalypse.  In  such 
passages  Milton's  prose  is,  as  Taine  suggests,  "an  outpouring 
of  splendors,"  which  suggests  the  noblest  poetry. 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  213 

On  account  of  their  controversial  character  these  prose 
works  are  seldom  read,  and  it  is  probable  that  Milton  never 
thought  of  them  as  worthy  of  a  place  in  literature. 
Of  them  all  Areopagitica  has  perhaps  the  most  per- 
manent interest  and  is  best  worth  reading.  In  Milton's  time 
there  was  a  law  forbidding  the  publication  of  books  until  they 
were  indorsed  by  the  official  censor.  Needless  to  say,  the 
censor,  holding  his  office  and  salary  by  favor,  was  naturally 
more  concerned  with  the  divine  right  of  kings  and  bishops 
than  with  the  delights  of  literature,  and  many  books  were  sup- 
pressed for  no  better  reason  than  that  they  were  displeasing 
to  the  authorities.  Milton  protested  against  this,  as  against 
every  other  form  of  tyranny,  and  his  Areopagitica  —  so  called 
from  the  Areopagus  or  Forum  of  Athens,  the  place  of  public 
appeal,  and  the  Mars  Hill  of  St.  Paul's  address  —  is  the  most 
famous  plea  in  English  for  the  freedom  of  the  press. 

Milton's  Later  Poetry.  Undoubtedly  the  noblest  of  Milton's 
works,  written  when  he  was  blind  and  suffering,  are  Paradise 
Lost,  Paradise  Regained,  and  Samson  Agonistes.  The  first  is 
the  greatest,  indeed  the  only  generally  acknowledged  epic  in 
our  literature  since  Beowulf ;  the  last  is  the  most  perfect 
specimen  of  a  drama  after  the  Greek  method  in  our  language. 

Of  the  history  of  the  great  epic  we  have  some  interesting 
glimpses.  In  Cambridge  there  is  preserved  a  notebook  of 
Paradise  Milton's  containing  a  list  of  nearly  one  hundred 
subjects1  for  a  great  poem,  selected  while  he  was 
a  boy  at  the  university.  King  Arthur  attracted  him  at  first ; 
but  his  choice  finally  settled  upon  the  Fall  of  Man,  and  we 
have  four  separate  outlines  showing  Milton's  proposed  treat- 
ment of  the  subject.  These  outlines  indicate  that  he  con- 
templated a  mighty  drama  or  miracle  play ;  but  whether 
because  of  Puritan  antipathy  to  plays  and  players,  or  because 
of  the  wretched  dramatic  treatment  of  religious  subjects  which 

1  Of  these  sixty  were  taken  from  the  Bible,  thirty-three  from  English  and  five  from 
Scotch  history. 


214  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Milton  had  witnessed  in  Italy,  he  abandoned  the  idea  of  a  play 
and  settled  on  the  form  of  an  epic  poem ;  most  fortunately,  it 
must  be  conceded,  for  Milton  had  not  the  knowledge  of  men 
necessary  for  a  drama.  As  a  study  of  character  Paradise 
Lost  would  be  a  grievous  failure.  Adam,  the  central  charac- 
ter, is  something  of  a  prig ;  while  Satan  looms  up  a  magnifi- 
cent figure,  entirely  different  from  the  devil  of  the  miracle 
plays  and  completely  overshadowing  the  hero  both  in  interest 
and  in  manliness.  The  other  characters,  the  Almighty,  the 
Son,  Raphael,  Michael,  the  angels  and  fallen  spirits,  are 
merely  mouthpieces  for  Milton's  declamations,  without  any 
personal  or  human  interest.  Regarded  as  a  drama,  there- 
fore, Paradise  Lost  could  never  have  been  a  success  ;  but  as 
poetry,  with  its  sublime  imagery,  its  harmonious  verse,  its 
titanic  background  of  heaven,  hell,  and  the  illimitable  void 
that  lies  between,  it  is  unsurpassed  in  any  literature. 

In  1658  Milton  in  his  darkness  sat  down  to  dictate  the 
work  which  he  had  planned  thirty  years  before.  In  order  to 
understand  the  mighty  sweep  of  the  poem  it  is  necessary  to 
sum  up  the  argument  of  the  twelve  books,  as  follows  : 

Book  I  opens  with  a  statement  of  the  subject,  the  Fall  of  Man,  and 
a  noble  invocation  for  light  and  divine  guidance.  Then  begins  the 
Argument  account  of  Satan  and  the  rebel  angels,  their  banishment 
of  Paradise  from  heaven,  and  their  plot  to  oppose  the  design  of  the 
Lost  Almighty  by  dragging  down  his  children,  our  first  parents, 

from  their  state  of  innocence.  The  book  closes  with  a  description  of 
the  land  of  fire  and  endless  pain  where  the  fallen  spirits  abide,  and  the 
erection  of  Pandemonium,  the  palace  of  Satan.  Book  II  is  a  description 
of  the  council  of  evil  spirits,  of  Satan's  consent  to  undertake  the  temp- 
tation of  Adam  and  Eve,  and  his  journey  to  the  gates  of  hell,  which  are 
guarded  by  Sin  and  Death.  Book  III  transports  us  to  heaven  again. 
God,  foreseeing  the  fall,  sends  Raphael  to  warn  Adam  and  Eve,  so  that 
their  disobedience  shall  be  upon  their  own  heads.  Then  the  Son  offers 
himself  a  sacrifice,  to  take  away  the  sin  of  the  coming  disobedience  of 
man.  At  the  end  of  this  book  Satan  appears  in  a  different  scene,  meets 
Uriel,  the  Angel  of  the  Sun,  inquires  from  him  the  way  to  earth,  and 
takes  his  journey  thither  disguised  as  an  angel  of  light.  Book  IV  shows 
us  Paradise  and  the  innocent  state  of  man.  An  angel  guard  is  set  over 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  215 

Eden,  and  Satan  is  arrested  while  tempting  Eve  in  a  dream,  but  is  curi- 
ously allowed  to  go  free  again.  Book  V  shows  us  Eve  relating  her  dream 
to  Adam,  and  then  the  morning  prayer  and  the  daily  employment  of  our 
first  parents.  Raphael  visits  them,  is  entertained  by  a  banquet  (which 
Eve  proposes  in  order  to  show  him  that  all  God's  gifts  are  not  kept  in 
heaven),  and  tells  them  of  the  revolt  of  the  fallen  spirits.  His  story  is 
continued  in  Book  VI.  In  Book  VI I  we  read  the  story  of  the  creation 
of  the  world  as  Raphael  tells  it  to  Adam  and  Eve.  In  Book  VIII  Adam 
tells  Raphael  the  story  of  his  own  life  and  of  his  meeting  with  Eve. 
Book  IX  is  the  story  of  the  temptation  by  Satan,  following  the  account 
in  Genesis.  Book  X  records  the  divine  judgment  upon  Adam  and  Ev.e  ; 
shows  the  construction  by  Sin  and  Death  of  a  highway  through  chaos  to 
the  earth,  and  Satan's  return  to  Pandemonium.  Adam  and  Eve  repent 
of  their  disobedience  and  Satan  and  his  angels  are  turned  into  serpents. 
In  Book  XI  the  Almighty  accepts  Adam's  repentance,  but  condemns 
him  to  be  banished  from  Paradise,  and  the  archangel  Michael  is  sent  to 
execute  the  sentence.  At  the  end  of  the  book,  after  Eve's  feminine  grief 
at  the  loss  of  Paradise,  Michael  begins  a  prophetic  vision  of  the  destiny 
of  man.  Book  XI I  continues  Michael's  vision.  Adam  and  Eve  are  com- 
forted by  hearing  of  the  future  redemption  of  their  race.  The  poem  ends 
as  they  wander  forth  out  of  Paradise  and  the  door  closes  behind  them. 

It  will  be  seen  that  this  is  a  colossal  epic,  not  of  a  man  or 
a  hero,  but  of  the  whole  race  of  men ;  and  that  Milton's  char- 
acters are  such  as  no  human  hand  could  adequately  portray. 
But  the  scenes,  the  splendors  of  heaven,  the  horrors  of  hell, 
the  serene  beauty  of  Paradise,  the  sun  and  planets  suspended 
between  celestial  light  and  gross  darkness,  are  pictured  with 
an  imagination  that  is  almost  superhuman.  The  abiding  inter- 
est of  the  poem  is  in  these  colossal  pictures,  and  in  the  lofty 
thought  and  the  marvelous  melody  with  which  they  are  im- 
pressed on  our  minds.  The  poem  is  in  blank  verse,  and  not 
until  Milton  used  it  did  we  learn  the  infinite  variety  and  har- 
mony of  which  it  is  capable.  He  played  with  it,  changing  its 
melody  and  movement  on  every  page,  "as  an  organist  out  of  a 
single  theme  develops  an  unending  variety  of  harmony." 

Lamartine  has  described  Paradise  Lost  as  the  dream  of  a 
Puritan  fallen  asleep  over  his  Bible,  and  this  suggestive  de- 
scription leads  us  to  the  curious  fact  that  it  is  the  dream,  not 


216  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  theology  or  the  descriptions  of  Bible  scenes,  that  chiefly 
interests  us.  Thus  Milton  describes  the  separation  of  earth 
and  water,  and  there  is  little  or  nothing  added  to  the  sim- 
plicity and  strength  of  Genesis ;  but  the  sunset  which  follows 
is  Milton's  own  dream,  and  instantly  we  are  transported  to  a 
land  of  beauty  and  poetry  : 

Now  came  still  Evening  on,  and  Twilight  gray 
Had  in  her  sober  livery  all  things  clad ; 
Silence  accompanied  ;  for  beast  and  bird, 
They  to  their  grassy  couch,  these  to  their  nests 
Were  slunk,  all  but  the  wakeful  nightingale. 
She  all  night  long  her  amorous  descant  sung : 
Silence  was  pleased.    Now  glowed  the  firmament 
With  living  sapphires  ;  Hesperus,  that  led 
The  starry  host,  rode  brightest,  till  the  Moon, 
Rising  in  clouded  majesty,  at  length 
Apparent  queen,  unveiled  her  peerless  light, 
And  o'er  the  dark  her  silver  mantle  threw. 

So  also  Milton's  Almighty,  considered  purely  as  a  literary 
character,  is  unfortunately  tinged  with  the  narrow  and  literal 
theology  of  the  time.  He  is  a  being  enormously  egotistic,  the 
despot  rather  than  the  servant  of  the  universe,  seated  upon  a 
throne  with  a  chorus  of  angels  about  him  eternally  singing  his 
praises  and  ministering  to  a  kind  of  divine  vanity.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  search  heaven  for  such  a  character ;  the  type  is 
too  common  upon  earth.  But  in  Satan  Milton  breaks  away 
from  crude  mediaeval  conceptions ;  he  follows  the  dream  again, 
and  gives  us  a  character  to  admire  and  understand  : 

"Is  this  the  region,  this  the  soil,  the  clime," 

Said  then  the  lost  Archangel,  "this  the  seat 

That  we  must  change  for  Heaven  ?  —  this  mournful  gloom 

For  that  celestial  light  ?  Be  it  so,  since  He 

Who  now  is  sovran  can  dispose  and  bid 

What  shall  be  right:  farthest  from  Him  is  best, 

Whom  reason  hath  equalled,  force  hath  made  supreme 

Above  his  equals.    Farewell,  happy  fields, 

Where  joy  forever  dwells  !    Hail,  horrors  !  hail, 

Infernal  World  !    and  thou,  profoundest  Hell, 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  217 

Receive  thy  new  possessor  —  one  who  brings 
A  mind  not  to  be  changed  by  place  or  time. 
The  mind  is  its  own  place,  and  in  itself 
Can  make  a  Heaven  of  Hell,  a  Hell  of  Heaven. 
What  matter  where,  if  I  be  still  the  same, 
And  what  I  should  be,  all  but  less  than  he 
Whom  thunder  hath  made  greater  ?    Here  at  least 
We  shall  be  free  ;'the  Almighty  hath  not  built 
Here  for  his  envy,  will  not  drive  us  hence  : 
Here  we  may  reign  secure  ;  and,  in  my  choice, 
To  reign  is  worth  ambition,  though  in  Hell : 
Better  to  reign  in  Hell  than  serve  in  Heaven.' 

In  this  magnificent  heroism  Milton  has  unconsciously  immor- 
talized the  Puritan  spirit,  the  same  unconquerable  spirit  that 
set  men  to  writing  poems  and  allegories  when  in  prison  for 
the  faith,  and  that  sent  them  over  the  stormy  sea  in  a  cockle- 
shell to  found  a  free  commonwealth  in  the  wilds  of  America. 

For  a  modern  reader  the  understanding  of  Paradise  Lost 
presupposes  two  things,  —  a  knowledge  of  the  first  chapters  of 
the  Scriptures,  and  of  the  general  principles  of  Calvinistic 
theology;  but  it  is  a  pity  to  use  the  poem,  as  has  so  often 
been  done,  to  teach  a  literal  acceptance  of  one  or  the  other. 
Of  the  theology  of  Paradise  Lost  the  least  said  the  better ; 
but  to  the  splendor  of  the  Puritan  dream  and  the  glorious 
melody  of  its  expression  no  words  can  do  justice.  Even  a 
slight  acquaintance  will  make  the  reader  understand  why  it 
ranks  with  the  Divina  Commedia  of  Dante,  and  why  it  is 
generally  accepted  by  critics  as  the  greatest  single  poem  in 
our  literature. 

Soon  after  the  completion  of  Paradise  Lost,  Thomas  Ell- 
wood,  a  friend  of  Milton,  asked  one  day  after  reading  the 
Paradise  manuscript,  "  But  what  hast  thou  to  say  of  Para- 
Regained  dise  Found?"  It  was  in  response  to  this  suggestion 
that  Milton  wrote  the  second  part  of  the  great  epic,  known 
to  us  as  Paradise  Regained.  The  first  tells  how  mankind,  in 
the  person  of  Adam,  fell  at  the  first  temptation  by  Satan  and 
became  an  outcast  from  Paradise  and  from  divine  grace ;  the 


218  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

second  shows  how  mankind,  in  the  person  of  Christ,  with- 
stands the  tempter  and  is  established  once  more  in  the 
divine  favor.  Christ's  temptation  in  the  wilderness  is  the 
theme,  and  Milton  follows  the  account  in  the  fourth  chapter 
of  Matthew's  gospel.  Though  Paradise  Regained  was  Mil- 
ton's favorite,  and  though  it  has  many  passages  of  noble 
thought  and  splendid  imagery  equal  to  the  best  of  Paradise 
Lost,  the  poem  as  a  whole  falls  below  the  level  of  the  first, 
and  is  less  interesting  to  read. 

In  Samson  Agonistes  Milton  turns  to  a  more  vital  and  per- 
sonal theme,  and  his  genius  transfigures  the  story  of  Sam- 
son, the  mighty  champion  of  Israel,  now  blind  and 
scorned,  working  as  a  slave  among  the  Philistines. 
The  poet's  aim  was  to  present  in  English  a  pure  tragedy,  with 
all  the  passion  and  restraint  which  marked  the  old  Greek  dra- 
mas. That  he  succeeded  where  others  failed  is  due  to  two 
causes :  first,  Milton  himself  suggests  the  hero  of  one  of  the 
Greek  tragedies,  —  his  sorrow  and  affliction  give  to  his  noble 
nature  that  touch  of  melancholy  and  calm  dignity  which  is  in 
perfect  keeping  with  his  subject.  Second,  Milton  is  telling  his 
own  story.  Like  Samson  he  had  struggled  mightily  against  the 
enemies  of  his  race ;  he  had  taken  a  wife  from  the  Philistines 
and  had  paid  the  penalty ;  he  was  blind,  alone,  scorned  by  his 
vain  and  thoughtless  masters.  To  the  essential  action  of  the 
tragedy  Milton  could  add,  therefore,  that  touch  of  intense  yet 
restrained  personal  feeling  which  carries  more  conviction  than 
any  argument.  Samson  is  in  many  respects  the  most  convin- 
cing of  his  works.  Entirely  apart  from  the  interest  of  its  sub- 
ject and  treatment,  one  may  obtain  from  it  a  better  idea  of 
what  great  tragedy  was  among  the  Greeks  than  from  any 
other  work  in  our  language. 

Nothing  is  here  for  tears,  nothing  to  wail 
Or  knock  the  breast,  no  weakness,  no  contempt, 
Dispraise  or  blame,  —  nothing  but  well  and  fair, 
And  what  may  quiet  us  in  a  death  so  noble. 


THE  PURITAN  AGE 


219 


III.    PROSE  WRITERS   OF  THE  PURITAN   PERIOD 
JOHN  BUNYAN  (1628-1688) 

As  there  is  but  one  poet  great  enough  to  express  the  Puri- 
tan spirit,  so  there  is  but  one  commanding  prose  writer,  John 
Bunyan.  Milton  was  the  child  of  the  Renaissance,  inheritor 
of  all  its  culture,  and  the  most  profoundly  educated  man  of 
his  age.  Bunyan  was  a  poor,  uneducated  tinker.  From  the 
Renaissance  he  inherited  nothing ;  but  from  the  Reformation 
he  received  an  excess  of  that  spiritual  independence  which 
had  caused  the  Puritan  struggle  for  liberty.  These  two  men, 
representing  the  extremes  of  English  life  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  wrote  the 
two  works  that  stand 
to-day  for  the  mighty 
Puritan  spirit.  One 
gave  us  the  only  epic 
since  Beowulf ;  the 
other  gave  us  our 
only  great  allegory, 
which  has  been  read 
more  than  any  other 
book  in  our  language 
save  the  Bible. 

Life  of    Bunyan. 

Bunyan  is  an  extraor- 
dinary figure ;  we  must 
study  him,  as  well  as 
his  books.  Fortunately 
we  have  his  life  story  in  his  own  words,  written  with  the  same  lovable 
modesty  and  sincerity  that  marked  all  his  work.  Reading  that  story 
now,  in  Grace  Abounding,  we  see  two  great  influences  at  work  in  his 
life.  One,  from  within,  was  his  own  vivid  imagination,  which  saw 
visions,  allegories,  parables,  revelations,  in  every  common  event. 
The  other,  from  without,  was  the  spiritual  ferment  of  the  age,  the 


JOHN   BUNYAN 


220  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

multiplication  of  strange  sects,  —  Quakers,  Free-Willers,  Ranters, 
Anabaptists,  Millenarians,  —  and  the  untempered  zeal  of  all  classes, 
like  an  engine  without  a  balance  wheel,  when  men  were  breaking 
away  from  authority  and  setting  up  their  own  religious  standards. 
Bunyan's  life  is  an  epitome  of  that  astonishing  religious  individualism 
which  marked  the  close  of  the  English  Reformation. 

He  was  born  in  the  little  village  of  Elstow,  near  Bedford,  in  1628, 
the  son  of  a  poor  tinker.  For  a  little  while  the  boy  was  sent  to  school, 
where  he  learned  to  read  and  write  after  a  fashion ;  but  he  was  soon 
busy  in  his  father's  shop,  where,  amid  the  glowing  pots  and  the  fire 
and  smoke  of  his  little  forge,  he  saw  vivid  pictures  of  hell  and  the 
devils  which  haunted  him  all  his  life.  When  he  was  sixteen  years  old 
his  father  married  the  second  time,  whereupon  Bunyan  ran  away  and 
became  a  soldier  in  the  Parliamentary  army. 

The  religious  ferment  of  the  age  made  a  tremendous  impression 
on  Bunyan's  sensitive  imagination.  He  went  to  church  occasionally, 
only  to  find  himself  wrapped  in  terrors  and  torments  by  some  fiery 
itinerant  preacher;  and  he  would  rush  violently  away  from  church 
to  forget  his  fears  by  joining  in  Sunday  sports  on  the  village  green. 
As  night  came  on  the  sports  were  forgotten,  but  the  terrors  returned, 
multiplied  like  the  evil  spirits  of  the  parable.  Visions  of  hell  and  the 
demons  swarmed  in  his  brain.  He  would  groan  aloud  in  his  remorse, 
and  even  years  afterwards  he  bemoans  the  sins  of  his  early  life. 
When  we  look  for  them  fearfully,  expecting  some  shocking  crimes 
and  misdemeanors,  we  find  that  they  consisted  of  playing  ball  on 
Sunday  and  swearing.  The  latter  sin,  sad  to  say,  was  begun  by 
listening  to  his  father  cursing  some  obstinate  kettle  which  refused  to 
be  tinkered,  and  it  was  perfected  in  the  Parliamentary  army.  One 
day  his  terrible  swearing  scared  a  woman,  "a  very  loose  and  ungodly 
wretch,"  as  he  tells  us,  who  reprimanded  him  for  his  profanity.  The 
reproach  of  the  poor  woman  went  straight  home,  like  the  voice  of  a 
prophet.  All  his  profanity  left  him;  he  hung  down  his  head  with 
shame.  "  I  wished  with  all  my  heart,"  he  says,  "  that  I  might  be  a 
little  child  again,  that  my  father  might  learn  me  to  speak  with- 
out this  wicked  way  of  swearing."  With  characteristic  vehemence 
Bunyan  hurls  himself  upon  a  promise  of  Scripture,  and  instantly  the 
reformation  begins  to  work  in  his  soul.  He  casts  out  the  habit,  root 
and  branch,  and  finds  to  his  astonishment  that  he  can  speak  more 
freely  and  vigorously  than  before.  Nothing  is  more  characteristic 
of  the  man  than  this  sudden  seizing  upon  a  text,  which  he  had 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  221 

doubtless  heard  many  times  before,  and  being  suddenly  raised  up 
or  cast  down  by  its  influence. 

With  Bunyan's  marriage  to  a  good  woman  the  real  reformation  in 
his  life  began.  While  still  in  his  teens  he  married  a  girl  as  poor  as 
himself.  "  We  came  together,"  he  says,  "  as  poor  as  might  be,  hav- 
ing not  so  much  household  stuff  as  a  dish  or  spoon  between  us  both." 
The  only  dowry  which  the  girl  brought  to  her  new  home  was  two  old, 
threadbare  books,  The  Plain  Man's  Pathway  to  Heaven,  and  The 
Practice  of  Piety}*  Bunyan  read  these  books,  which  instantly  gave 
fire  to  his  imagination.  He  saw  new  visions  and  dreamed  terrible  new 
dreams  of  lost  souls  ;  his  attendance  at  church  grew  exemplary ;  he 
began  slowly  and  painfully  to  read  the  Bible  for  himself,  but  because 
of  his  own  ignorance  and  the  contradictory  interpretations  of  Scrip- 
ture which  he  heard  on  every  side,  he  was  tossed  about  like  a  feather 
by  all  the  winds  of  doctrine. 

The  record  of  the  next  few  years  is  like  a  nightmare,  so  terrible  is 
Bunyan's  spiritual  struggle.  One  day  he  feels  himself  an  outcast; 
the  next  the  companion  of  angels;  the  third  he  tries  experiments 
with  the  Almighty  in  order  to  put  his  salvation  to  the  proof.  As  he 
goes  along  the  road  to  Bedford  he  thinks  he  will  work  a  miracle,  like 
Gideon  with  his  fleece.  He  will  say  to  the  little  puddles  of  water  in 
the  horses'  tracks,  "  Be  ye  dry  " ;  and  to  all  the  dry  tracks  he  will 
say,  "Be  ye  puddles."  As  he  is  about  to  perform  the  miracle  a 
thought  occurs  to  him :  "  But  go  first  under  yonder  hedge  and  pray 
that  the  Lord  will  make  you  able  to  perform  a  miracle."  He  goes 
promptly  and  prays.  Then  he  is  afraid  of  the  test,  and  goes  on  his 
way  more  troubled  than  before. 

After  years  of  such  struggle,  chased  about  between  heaven  and 
hell,  Bunyan  at  last  emerges  into  a  saner  atmosphere,  even  as  Pilgrim 
came  out  of  the  horrible  Valley  of  the  Shadow.  Soon,  led  by  his  intense 
feelings,  he  becomes  an  open-air  preacher,  and  crowds  of  laborers 
gather  about  him  on  the  village  green.  They  listen  in  silence  to  his 
words ;  they  end  in  groans  and  tears ;  scores  of  them  amend  their 
sinful  lives.  For  the  Anglo-Saxon  people  are  remarkable  for  this, 
that  however  deeply  they  are  engaged  in  business  or  pleasure,  they 
are  still  sensitive  as  barometers  to  any  true  spiritual  influence,  whether 
of  priest  or  peasant;  they  recognize  what  Emerson  calls  the  "accent 

1  The  latter  was  by  Lewis  Bayly,  bishop  of  Bangor.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that 
this  book,  whose  very  title  is  unfamiliar  to  us,  was  speedily  translated  into  five  different 
languages.  It  had  an  enormous  sale,  and  ran  through  fifty  editions  soon  after  publication. 


222  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  and  in  this  recognition  of  spiritual  leadership 
lies  the  secret  of  their  democracy.  So  this  village  tinker,  with  his 
strength  and  sincerity,  is  presently  the  acknowledged  leader  of  an 
immense  congregation,  and  his  influence  is  felt  throughout  England. 
It  is  a  tribute  to  his  power  that,  after  the  return  of  Charles  II,  Bunyan 
was  the  first  to  be  prohibited  from  holding  public  meetings. 

Concerning  Bunyan's  imprisonment  in  Bedford  jail,  which  followed 
his  refusal  to  obey  the  law  prohibiting  religious  meetings  without  the 
authority  of  the  Established  Church,  there  is  a  difference  of  opinion. 
That  the  law  was  unjust  goes  without  saying ;  but  there  was  no  reli- 
gious persecution,  as  we  understand  the  term.  Bunyan  was  allowed  to 
worship  when  and  how  he  pleased ;  he  was  simply  forbidden  to  hold 
public  meetings,  which  frequently  became  fierce  denunciations  of  the 
Established  Church  and  government.  His  judges  pleaded  with  Bunyan 
to  conform  with  the  law.  He  refused,  saying  that  when  the  Spirit 
was  upon  him  he  must  go  up  and  down  the  land,  calling  on  men 
everywhere  to  repent.  In  his  refusal  we  see  much  heroism,  a  little 
obstinacy,  and  perhaps  something  of  that  desire  for  martyrdom  which 
tempts  every  spiritual  leader.  That  his  final  sentence  to  indefinite 
imprisonment  was  a  hard  blow  to  Bunyan  is  beyond  question.  He 
groaned  aloud  at  the  thought  of  his  poor  family,  and  especially  at  the 
thought  of  leaving  his  little  blind  daughter : 

I  found  myself  a  man  encompassed  with  infirmities  ;  the  parting  was 
like  pulling  the  flesh  from  my  bones.  .  .  .  Oh,  the  thoughts  of  the  hard- 
ship I  thought  my  poor  blind  one  might  go  under  would  break  my  heart 
to  pieces.  Poor  child,  thought  I,  what  sorrow  thou  art  like  to  have  for 
thy  portion  in  this  world;  thou  must  be  beaten,  must  beg,  suffer  hunger, 
cold,  nakedness,  and  a  thousand  calamities,  though  I  cannot  now  endure 
that  the  wind  should  blow  upon  thee.1 

And  then,  because  he  thinks  always  in  parables  and  seeks  out  most 
curious  texts  of  Scripture,  he  speaks  of  "  the  two  milch  kine  that 
were  to  carry  the  ark  of  God  into  another  country  and  leave  their 
calves  behind  them."  Poor  cows,  poor  Bunyan !  Such  is  the  mind 
of  this  extraordinary  man. 

With  characteristic  diligence  Bunyan  set  to  work  in  prison  making 
shoe  laces,  and  so  earned  a  living  for  his  family.  His  imprisonment 
lasted  for  nearly  twelve  years ;  but  he  saw  his  family  frequently,  and 
was  for  some  time  a  regular  preacher  in  the  Baptist  church  in 

1  Abridged  from  Grace  Abounding,  Part  3 ;  Works  (ed.  1873),  p.  71. 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  223 

Bedford.  Occasionally  he  even  went  about  late  at  night,  holding 
the  proscribed  meetings  and  increasing  his  hold  upon  the  common 
people.  The  best  result  of  this  imprisonment  was  that  it  gave  Bunyan 
long  hours  for  the  working  of  his  peculiar  mind  and  for  study  of  his 
two  only  books,  the  King  James  Bible  and  Foxe's  Book  of  Martyrs. 
The  result  of  his  study  and  meditation  was  The  Pilgrim 's  Progress, 
which  was  probably  written  in  prison,  but  which  for  some  reason  he 
did  not  publish  till  long  after  his  release. 

The  years  which  followed  are  the  most  interesting  part  of  Bunyan's 
strange  career.  The  publication  of  Pilgrim's  Progress  in  1678  made 
him  the  most  popular  writer,  as  he  was  already  the  most  popular 
preacher,  in  England.  Books,  tracts,  sermons,  nearly  sixty  works  in 
all,  came  from  his  pen ;  and  when  one  remembers  his  ignorance,  his 
painfully  slow  writing,  and  his  activity  as  an  itinerant  preacher,  one 
can  only  marvel.  His  evangelistic  journeys  carried  him  often  as  far 
as  London,  and  wherever  he  went  crowds  thronged  to  hear  him. 
Scholars,  bishops,  statesmen  went  in  secret  to  listen  among  the 
laborers,  and  came  away  wondering  and  silent.  At  Southwark  the 
largest  building  could  not  contain  the  multitude  of  his  hearers;  and 
when  he  preached  in  London,  thousands  would  gather  in  the  cold 
dusk  of  the  winter  morning,  before  work  began,  and  listen  until  he 
had  made  an  end  of  speaking.  "  Bishop  Bunyan  "  he  was  soon  called 
on  account  of  his  missionary  journeys  and  his  enormous  influence. 

What  we  most  admire  in  the  midst  of  all  this  activity  is  his  perfect 
mental  balance,  his  charity  and  humor  in  the  strife  of  many  sects. 
He  was  badgered  for  years  by  petty  enemies,  and  he  arouses  our 
enthusiasm  by  his  tolerance,  his  self-control,  and  especially  by  his 
sincerity.  To  the  very  end  he  retained  that  simple  modesty  which  no 
success  could  spoil.  Once  when  he  had  preached  with  unusual  power 
some  of  his  friends  waited  after  the  service  to  congratulate  him,  tell- 
ing him  what  a  "sweet  sermon"  he  had  delivered.  "Aye,"  said 
Bunyan,  "you  need  not  remind  me ;  the  devil  told  me  that  before  I 
was  out  of  the  pulpit." 

For  sixteen  years  this  wonderful  activity  continued  without  inter- 
ruption. Then,  one  day  when  riding  through  a  cold  storm  on  a  labor 
of  love,  to  reconcile  a  stubborn  man  with  his  own  stubborn  son,  he 
caught  a  severe  cold  and  appeared,  ill  and  suffering  but  rejoicing  in 
his  success,  at  the  house  of  a  friend  in  Reading.  He  died  there  a 
few  days  later,  and  was  laid  away  in  Bunhill  Fields  burial  ground, 
London,  which  has  been  ever  since  a  campo  santo  to  the  faithful. 


224  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Works  of  Bunyan.  The  world's  literature  has  three  great 
allegories, — Spenser's  Faery  Queen,  Dante's  Divina  Comme- 
dia,  and  Banyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress.  The  first  appeals  to 
poets,  the  second  to  scholars,  the  third  to  people  of  every  age 
and  condition.  Here  is  a  brief  outline  of  the  famous  work  : 

"As  I  walked  through  the  wilderness  of  this  world  I  lighted  on  a 
certain  place  where  was  a  den  [Bedford  jail]  and  laid  me  down  in  that 

place  to  sleep ;  and,  as  I  slept,  I  dreamed  a  dream."  So 
p[lg ring's*  °f  the  story  begins.  He  sees  a  man  called  Christian  setting 
Progress8  out  with  a  book  in  his  hand  and  a  great  load  on  his  back 

from  the  city  of  Destruction.  Christian  has  two  objects, 
—  to  get  rid  of  his  burden,  which  holds  the  sins  and  fears  of  his  life, 
and  to  make  his  way  to  the  Holy  City.  At  the  outset  Evangelist  finds 
him  weeping  because  he  knows  not  where  to  go,  and  points  him  to  a 
wicket  gate  on  a  hill  far  away.  As  Christian  goes  forward  his  neigh- 
bors, friends,  wife  and  children  call  to  him  to  come  back  ;  but  he  puts 
his  fingers  in  his  ears,  crying  out,  "  Life,  life,  eternal  life,"  and  so  rushes 
across  the  plain. 

Then  begins  a  journey  in  ten  stages,  which  is  a  vivid  picture  of  the 
difficulties  and  triumphs  of  the  Christian  life.  Every  trial,  every  diffi- 
culty, every  experience  of  joy  or  sorrow,  of  peace  or  temptation,  is  put 
into  the  form  and  discourse  of  a  living  character.  Other  allegorists 
write  in  poetry  and  their  characters  are  shadowy  and  unreal ;  but  Bunyan 
speaks  in  terse,  idiomatic  prose,  and  his  characters  are  living  men  and 
women.  There  are  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman,  a  self-satisfied  and  dogmatic 
kind  of  man,  youthful  Ignorance,  sweet  Piety,  courteous  Demas,  gar- 
rulous Talkative,  honest  Faithful,  and  a  score  of  others,  who  are  not  at 
all  the  bloodless  creatures  of  the  Romance  of  the  Rose,  but  men  real 
enough  to  stop  you  on  the  road  and  to  hold  your  attention.  Scene  after 
scene  follows,  in  which  are  pictured  many  of  our  own  spiritual  expe^ 
riences.  There  is  the  Slough  of  Despond,  into  which  we  all  have  fallen, 
out  of  which  Pliable  scrambles  on  the  hither  side  and  goes  back 
grumbling,  but  through  which  Christian  struggles  mightily  till  Helpful 
stretches  him  a  hand  and  drags  him  out  on  solid  ground  and  bids  him 
go  on  his  way.  Then  come  Interpreter's  house,  the  Palace  Beautiful, 
the  Lions  in  the  way,  the  Valley  of  Humiliation,  the  hard  fight  with  the 
demon  Apollyon,  the  more  terrible  Valley  of  the  Shadow,  Vanity  Fair, 
and  the  trial  of  Faithful.  The  latter  is  condemned  to  death  by  a  jury 
made  up  of  Mr.  Blindman,  Mr.  Nogood,  Mr.  Heady,  Mr.  Liveloose,  Mr. 
Hatelight,  and  others  of  their  kind  to  whom  questions  of  justice  are 
committed  by  the  jury  system.  Most  famous  is  Doubting  Castle,  where 
Christian  and  Hopeful  are  thrown  into  a  dungeon  by  Giant  Despair. 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  225 

And  then  at  last  the  Delectable  Mountains  of  Youth,  the  deep  river  that 
Christian  must  cross,  and  the  city  of  All  Delight  and  the  glorious  com- 
pany of  angels  that  come  singing  down  the  streets.  At  the  very  end, 
when  in  sight  of  the  city  and  while  he  can  hear  the  welcome  with  which 
Christian  is  greeted,  Ignorance  is  snatched  away  to  go  to  his  own  place; 
and  Bunyan  quaintly  observes,  "Then  I  saw  that  there  was  a  way  to 
hell  even  from  the  gates  of  heaven  as  well  as  from  the  city  of  Destruc- 
tion. So  I  awoke,  and  behold  it  was  a  dream !" 

Such,  in  brief,  is  the  story,  the  great  epic  of  a  Puritan's  individual  ex- 
perience in  a  rough  world,  just  as  Paradise  Lost  was  the  epic  of  mankind 
as  dreamed  by  the  great  Puritan  who  had  "fallen  asleep  over  his  Bible." 

The  chief  fact  which  confronts  the  student  of  literature  as 
he  pauses  before  this  great  allegory  is  that  it  has  been  trans- 
Success  of  lated  into  seventy-five  languages  and  dialects,  and 
pilgrim's  has  been  read  more  than  any  other  book  save  one 
in  the  English  language. 

As  for  the  secret  of  its  popularity,  Taine  says,  "  Next  to 
the  Bible,  the  book  most  widely  read  in  England  is  the  Pil- 
grim's Progress.  .  .  .  Protestantism  is  the  doctrine  of  salva- 
tion by  grace,  and  no  writer  has  equaled  Bunyan  in  making 
this  doctrine  understood."  And  this  opinion  is  echoed  by  the 
majority  of  our  literary  historians.  It  is  perhaps  sufficient 
answer  to  quote  the  simple  fact  that  Pilgrim's  Progress  is 
not  exclusively  a  Protestant  study ;  it  appeals  to  Christians 
of  every  name,  and  to  Mohammedans  and  Buddhists  in  pre- 
cisely the  same  way  that  it  appeals  to  Christians.  When  it 
was  translated  into  the  languages  of  Catholic  countries,  like 
France  and  Portugal,  only  one  or  two  incidents  were  omitted, 
and  the  story  was  almost  as  popular  there  as  with  English 
readers.  The  secret  of  its  success  is  probably  simple.  It  is, 
first  of  all,  not  a  procession  of  shadows  repeating  the  author's 
declamations,  but  a  real  story,  the  first  extended  story  in  our 
language.  Our  Puritan  fathers  may  have  read  the  story  for 
religious  instruction ;  but  all  classes  of  men  have  read  it  be- 
cause they  found  in  it  a  true  personal  experience  told  with 
strength,  interest,  humor,  —  in  a  word,  with  all  the  qualities 
that  such  a  story  should  possess.  Young  people  have  read  it, 


226  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

first,  for  its  intrinsic  worth,  because  the  dramatic  interest  of 
the  story  lured  them  on  to  the  very  end  ;  and  second,  because 
it  was  their  introduction  to  true  allegory.  The  child  with 
his  imaginative  mind  —  the  man  also,  who  has  preserved  his 
simplicity — naturally  personifies  objects,  and  takes  pleasure 
in  giving  them  powers  of  thinking  and  speaking  like  himself. 
Bunyan  was  the  first  writer  to  appeal  to  this  pleasant  and 
natural  inclination  in  a  way  that  all  could  understand.  Add 
to  this  the  fact  that  Pilgrim 's  Progress  was  the  only  book 
having  any  story  interest  in  the  great  majority  of  English 
and  American  homes  for  a  full  century,  and  we  have  found 
the  real  reason  for  its  wide  reading. 

The  Holy  War,  published  in  1665,  is  the  first  important 
work  of  Bunyan.  It  is  a  prose  Paradise  Lost,  and  would  un- 
doubtedly be  known  as  a  remarkable  allegory  were 
it:  not  overshadowed  by  its  great  rival.  Grace 
Abounding  to  the  Chief  of  Sinners,  published  in 
1666,  twelve  years  before  Pilgrim's  Progress,  is  the  work 
from  which  we  obtain  the  clearest  insight  into  Bunyan's  re- 
markable life,  and  to  a  man  with  historical  or  antiquarian 
tastes  it  is  still  excellent  reading.  In  1682  appeared  The 
Life  and  Death  of  Mr.  B adman,  a  realistic  character  study 
which  is  a  precursor  of  the  modern  novel;  and  in  1684  the 
second  part  of  Pilgrim's  Progress,  showing  the  journey  of 
Christiana  and  her  children  to  the  city  of  All  Delight.  Besides 
these  Bunyan  published  a  multitude  of  treatises  and  sermons, 
all  in  the  same  style,  —  direct,  simple,  convincing,  expressing 
every  thought  and  emotion  perfectly  in  words  that  even  a 
child  can  understand.  Many  of  these  are  masterpieces,  ad- 
mired by  workingmen  and  scholars  alike  for  their  thought  and 
expression.  Take,  for  instance,  "The  Heavenly  Footman," 
put  it  side  by  side  with  the  best  work  of  Latimer,  and  the 
resemblance  in  style  is  startling.  It  is  difficult  to  realize 
that  one  work  came  from  an  ignorant  tinker  and  the  other 
from  a  great  scholar,  both  engaged  in  the  same  general  work. 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  227 

As  Bunyan's  one  book  was  the  Bible,  we  have  here  a  sugges- 
tion of  its  influence  in  all  our  prose  literature. 


,     MINOR  PROSE  WRITERS 

The  Puritan  Period  is  generally  regarded  as  one  destitute 
of  literary  interest ;  but  that  was  certainly  not  the  result  of 
any  lack  of  books  or  writers.  Says  Burton  in  his  Anatomy 
of  Melancholy  : 

I  have  .  .  .  new  books  every  day,  pamphlets,  currantoes,  stories,  whole 
catalogues  of  volumes  of  all  sorts,  new  paradoxes,  opinions,  schisms, 
heresies,  controversies  in  philosophy  and  religion.  Now  come  tidings 
of  weddings,  maskings,  entertainments,  jubilees,  embassies,  sports,  plays  , 
then  again,  as  in  a  new-shipped  scene,  treasons,  cheatings,  tricks,  rob- 
beries, enormous  villainies  in  all  kinds,  funerals,  deaths,  new  discover- 
ies, expeditions ;  now  comical,  then  tragical  matters.  .  .  . 

So  the  record  continues,  till  one  rubs  his  eyes  and  thinks  he 
must  have  picked  up  by  mistake  the  last  literary  magazine. 
And  for  all  these  kaleidoscopic  events  there  were  waiting 
a  multitude  of  writers,  ready  to  seize  the  abundant  material 
and  turn  it  to  literary  account  for  a  tract,  an  article,  a  vol- 
ume, or  an  encyclopedia. 

If  one  were  to  recommend  certain  of  these  books  as  ex- 
pressive of  this  age  of  outward  storm  and  inward  calm,  there 
Three  Good  are  three  that  deserve  more  than  a  passing  notice, 
Books  namely,  the  Religio  Medici,  Holy  Living,  and  The 

Compleat  Angler.  The  first  was  written  by  a  busy  physician, 
a  supposedly  scientific  man  at  that  time ;  the  second  by  the 
most  learned  of  English  churchmen  ;  and  the  third  by  a  simple 
merchant  and  fisherman.  Strangely  enough,  these  three  great 
books — the  reflections  of  nature,  science,  and  revelation — all 
interpret  human  life  alike  and  tell  the  same  story  of  gentle- 
ness, charity,  and  noble  living.  If  the  age  had  produced  only 
these  three  books,  we  could  still  be  profoundly  grateful  to  it 
for  its  inspiring  message. 


228  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Robert  Burton  (1577-1640).  Burton  is  famous  chiefly  as 
the  author  o£  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy ',  one  of  the  most 
astonishing  books  in  all  literature,  which  appeared  in  1621. 
Burton  was  a  clergyman  of  the  Established  Church,  an  incom- 
prehensible genius,  given  to  broodings  and  melancholy  and 
to  reading  of  every  conceivable  kind  of  literature.  Thanks  to 
his  wonderful  memory,  everything  he  read  was  stored  up  for 
use  or  ornament,  till  his  mind  resembled  a  huge  curiosity 
shop.  All  his  life  he  suffered  from  hypochondria,  but  curi- 
ously traced  his  malady  to  the  stars  rather  than  to  his  own 
liver.  It  is  related  of  him  that  he  used  to  suffer  so  from  de- 
spondency that  no  help  was  to  be  found  in  medicine  or  the- 
ology ;  his  only  relief  was  to  go  down  to  the  river  and  hear 
the  bargemen  swear  at  one  another. 

Burton's  Anatomy  was  begun  as  a  medical  treatise  on  mor- 
bidness, arranged  and  divided  with  all  the  exactness  of  the 
schoolmen's  demonstration  of  doctrines ;  but  it  turned  out  to 
be  an  enormous  hodgepodge  of  quotations  and  references 
to  authors,  known  and  unknown,  living  and  dead,  which 
seemed  to  prove  chiefly  that  "  much  study  is  a  weariness  to 
the  flesh."  By  some  freak  of  taste  it  became  instantly  popu- 
lar, and  was  proclaimed  one  of  the  greatest  books  in  literature. 
A  few  scholars  still  explore  it  with  delight,  as  a  mine  of  classic 
wealth ;  but  the  style  is  hopelessly  involved,  and  to  the  ordi- 
nary reader  most  of  his  numerous  references  are  now  as  un- 
meaning as  a  hyper-jacobian  surface. 

Sir  Thomas  Browne  (1605-1682).  Browne  was  a  physician 
who,  after  much  study  and  travel,  settled  down  to  his  profes- 
sion in  Norwich ;  but  even  then  he  gave  far  more  time  to  the 
investigation  of  natural  phenomena  than  to  the  barbarous 
practices  which  largely  constituted  the  "art"  of  medicine  in 
his  day.  He  was  known  far  and  wide  as  a  learned  doctor  and 
an  honest  man,  whose  scientific  studies  had  placed  him  in  ad- 
vance of  his  age,  and  whose  religious  views  were  liberal  to  the 
point  of  heresy.  With  this  in  mind,  it  is  interesting  to  note, 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  229 

as  a  sign  of  the  times,  that  this  most  scientific  doctor  was 
once  called  to  give  "expert"  testimony  in  the  case  of  two  old 
women  who  were  being  tried  for  the  capital  crime  of  witch- 
craft. He  testified  under  oath  that  "the  fits  were  natural, 
but  heightened  by  the  devil's  cooperating  with  the  witches, 
at  whose  instance  he  [the  alleged  devil]  did  the  villainies." 

Browne's  great  work  is  the  Religio  Medici,  i.e.  The  Religion 
of  a  Physician  (1642),  which  met  with  most  unusual  success. 
Religio  "  Hardly  ever  was  a  book  published  in  Britain," 
Medici  savs  Qldys,  a  chronicler  who  wrote  nearly  a  century 

later,  "that  made  more  noise  than  the  Religio  Medici."  Its 
success  may  be  due  largely  to  the  fact  that,  among  thousands 
of  religious  works,  it  was  one  of  the  few  which  saw  in  nature 
a  profound  revelation,  and  which  treated  purely  religious 
subjects  in  a  reverent,  kindly,  tolerant  way,  without  ecclesi- 
astical bias.  It  is  still,  therefore,  excellent  reading ;  but  it  is 
not  so  much  the  matter  as  the  manner  —  the  charm,  the 
gentleness,  the  remarkable  prose  style  —  which  has  estab- 
lished the  book  as  one  of  the  classics  of  our  literature. 

Two  other  works  of  Browne  are  Vulgar  Errors  (1646),  a 
curious  combination  of  scientific  and  credulous  research  in 
the  matter  of  popular  superstition,  and  Urn  Burial,  a  treatise 
suggested  by  the  discovery  of  Roman  burial  urns  at  Walsing- 
ham.  It  began  as  an  inquiry  into  the  various  methods  of  burial, 
but  ended  in  a  dissertation  on  the  vanity  of  earthly  hope  and 
ambitions.  From  a  literary  point  of  view  it  is  Browne's  best 
work,  but  is  less  read  than  the  Religio  Medici. 

Thomas  Fuller  (1608-1661).  Fuller  was  a  clergyman  and 
royalist  whose  lively  style  and  witty  observations  would  natu- 
rally place  him  with  the  gay  Caroline  poets.  His  best  known 
works  are  The  Holy  War,  The  Holy  State  and  the  Profane 
State,  Church  History  of  Britain,  and  the  History  of  the 
Worthies  of  England.  The  Holy  and  Profane  State  is  chiefly 
a  biographical  record,  the  first  part  consisting  of  numerous 
historical  examples  to  be  imitated,  the  second  of  examples  to 


230  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

be  avoided.  The  Church  History  is  not  a  scholarly  work,  not- 
withstanding its  author's  undoubted  learning,  but  is  a  lively 
and  gossipy  account  which  has  at  least  one  virtue,  that  it 
entertains  the  reader.  The  Worthies,  the  most  widely  read 
of  his  works,  is  a  racy  account  of  the  important  men  of  Eng- 
land. Fuller  traveled  constantly  for  years,  collecting  infor- 
mation from  out-of-the-way  sources  and  gaining  a  minute 
knowledge  of  his  own  country.  This,  with  his  overflowing 
humor  and  numerous  anecdotes  and  illustrations,  makes  lively 
and  interesting  reading.  Indeed,  we  hardly  find  a  dull  page 
in  any  of  his  numerous  books. 

Jeremy  Taylor  (1613-1667).  Taylor  was  the  greatest  of 
the  clergymen  who  made  this  period  famous,  a  man  who,  like 
Milton,  upheld  a  noble  ideal  in  storm  and  calm,  and  him- 
self lived  it  nobly.  He  has  been  called  "the  Shakespeare  of 
divines,"  and  "a  kind  of  Spenser  in  a  cassock,"  and  both 
descriptions  apply  to  him  very  well.  His  writings,  with  their 
exuberant  fancy  and  their  noble  diction,  belong  rather  to 
the  Elizabethan  than  to  the  Puritan  age. 

From  the  large  number  of  his  works  two  stand  out  as  repre- 
sentative of  the  man  himself  :  The  Liberty  of  Prophesying 
(1646),  which  Hallam  calls  the  first  plea  for  tolerance  in 
religion,  on  a  comprehensive  basis  and  on  deep-seated  foun- 
dations; and  The  Rules  and  Exercises  of  Holy  Living  (1650). 
To  the  latter  might  be  added  its  companion  volume,  Holy 
Dying,  published  in  the  following  year.  The  Holy  Living 
and  Dying,  as  a  single  volume,  was  for  many  years  read  in 
almost  every  English  cottage.  With  Baxter's  Saints'  Rest, 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  and  the  King  James  Bible,  it  often  con- 
stituted the  entire  library  of  multitudes  of  Puritan  homes; 
and  as  we  read  its  noble  words  and  breathe  its  gentle  spirit, 
we  cannot  help  wishing  that  our  modern  libraries  were  gathered 
together  on  the  same  thoughtful  foundations. 

Richard  Baxter  (1615-1691).  This  "busiest  man  of  his 
age"  strongly  suggests  Bunyan  in  his  life  and  writings.  Like 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  231 

Bunyan,  he  was  poor  and  uneducated,  a  nonconformist  min- 
ister, exposed  continually  to  insult  and  persecution  ;  and,  like 
Bunyan,  he  threw  himself  heart  and  soul  into  the  conflicts  of 
his  age,  and  became  by  his  public  speech  a  mighty  power 
among  the  common  people.  Unlike  Jeremy  Taylor,  who 
wrote  for  the  learned,  and  whose  involved  sentences  and  clas- 
sical allusions  are  sometimes  hard  to  follow,  Baxter  went 
straight  to  his  mark,  appealing  directly  to  the  judgment  and 
feeling  of  his  readers. 

The  number  of  his  works  is  almost  incredible  when  one 
thinks  of  his  busy  life  as  a  preacher  and  the  slowness  of 
manual  writing.  In  all,  he  left  nearly  one  hundred  and  seventy 
different  works,  which  if  collected  would  make  fifty  or  sixty 
volumes.  As  he  wrote  chiefly  to  influence  men  on  the  im- 
mediate questions  of  the  day,  most  of  this  work  has  fallen  into 
oblivion.  His  two  most  famous  books  are  The  Saints'  Ever- 
lasting Rest  and  A  Call  to  the  Unconverted,  both  of  which  were 
exceedingly  popular,  running  through  scores  of  successive  edi- 
tions, and  have  been  widely  read  in  our  own  generation. 

Izaak  Walton  (i  593-1683).  Walton  was  a  small  tradesman 
of  London,  who  preferred  trout  brooks  and  good  reading  to  the 
profits  of  business  and  the  doubtful  joys  of  a  city  life  ;  so  at  fifty 
years,  when  he  had  saved  a  little  money,  he  left  the  city  and 
followed  his  heart  out  into  the  country.  He  began  his  literary 
work,  or  rather  his  recreation,  by  writing  his  famous  Lives, — 
kindly  and  readable  appreciations  of  Donne,  Wotton,  Hooker, 
Herbert,  and  Sanderson,  which  stand  at  the  beginning  of 
modern  biographical  writing. 

In  1653  appeared  The  Complete  Angler,  which  has  grown 
steadily  in  appreciation,  and  which  is  probably  more  widely 
read  than  any  other  book  on  the  subject  of  fishing 
^  Begins  with  a  conversation  between  a  falconer,  a 
hunter,  and  an  angler;  but  the  angler  soon  does 
most  of  the  talking,  as  fishermen  sometimes  do ;  the  hunter 
becomes  a  disciple,  and  learns  by  the  easy  method  of  hearing 


232  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  fisherman  discourse  about  his  art.  The  conversations,  it 
must  be  confessed,  are  often  diffuse  and  pedantic ;  but  they 
only  make  us  feel  most  comfortably  sleepy,  as  one  invariably 
feels  after  a  good  day's  fishing.  So  kindly  is  the  spirit  of  the 
angler,  so  exquisite  his  appreciation  of  the  beauty  of  the  earth 
and  sky,  that  one  returns  to  the  book,  as  to  a  favorite  trout 
stream,  with  the  undying  expectation  of  catching  something. 
Among  a  thousand  books  on  angling  it  stands  almost  alone  in 
possessing  a  charming  style,  and  so  it  will  probably  be  read 
as  long  as  men  go  fishing.  Best  of  all,  it  leads  to  a  better  ap- 
preciation of  nature,  and  it  drops  little  moral  lessons  into  the 
reader's  mind  as  gently  as  one  casts  a  fly  to  a  wary  trout ; 
so  that  one  never  suspects  his  better  nature  is  being  angled 
for.  Though  we  have  sometimes  seen  anglers  catch  more  than 
they  need,  or  sneak  ahead  of  brother  fishermen  to  the  best 
pools,  we  are  glad,  for  Walton's  sake,  to  overlook  such  unac- 
countable exceptions,  and  agree  with  the  milkmaid  that  "we 
love  all  anglers,  they  be  such  honest,  civil,  quiet  men." 

Summary  of  the  Puritan  Period.  The  half  century  between  1625  and 
1675  is  called  the  Puritan  period  for  two  reasons:  first,  because  Puritan 
standards  prevailed  for  a  time  in  England ;  and  second,  because  the  greatest 
literary  figure  during  all  these  years  was  the  Puritan,  John  Milton.  Histor- 
ically the  age  was  one  of  tremendous  conflict.  The  Puritan  struggled  for 
righteousness  and  liberty,  and  because  he  prevailed,  the  age  is  one  of  moral 
and  political  revolution.  In  his  struggle  for  liberty  the  Puritan  overthrew  the 
corrupt  monarchy,  beheaded  Charles  I,  and  established  the  Commonwealth 
under  Cromwell.  The  Commonwealth  lasted  but  a  few  years,  and  the  resto- 
ration of  Charles  II  in  1660  is  often  put  as  the  end  of  the  Puritan  period.  The 
age  has  no  distinct  limits,  but  overlaps  the  Elizabethan  period  on  one  side, 
and  the  Restoration  period  on  the  other. 

The  age  produced  many  writers,  a  few  immortal  books,  and  one  of  the 
world's  great  literary  leaders.  The  literature  of  the  age  is  extremely  diverse 
in  character,  and  the  diversity  is  due  to  the  breaking  up  of  the  ideals  of  polit- 
ical and  religious  unity.  This  literature  differs  from  that  of  the  preceding  age 
in  three  marked  ways  :  (i)  It  has  no  unity  of  spirit,  as  in  the  days  of  Eliza- 
beth, resulting  from  the  patriotic  enthusiasm  of  all  classes.  (2)  In  contrast 
with  the  hopefulness  and  vigor  of  Elizabethan  writings,  much  of  the  literature 
of  this  period  is  somber  in  character ;  it  saddens  rather  than  inspires  us.  (3)  It 
has  lost  the  romantic  impulse  of  youth,  and  become  critical  and  intellectual ; 
it  makes  us  think,  rather  than  feel  deeply. 


THE  PURITAN  AGE  233 

In  our  study  we  have  noted  (i)  the  Transition  Poets,  of  whom  Daniel 
is  chief;  (2)  the  Song  Writers,  Campion  and  Breton;  (3)  the  Spenserian 
Poets,  Wither  and  Giles  Fletcher;  (4)  the  Metaphysical  Poets,  Donne  and 
Herbert ;  (5)  the  Cavalier  Poets,  Herrick,  Carew,  Lovelace,  and  Suckling ; 
(6)  John  Milton,  his  life,  his  early  or  Horton  poems,  his  militant  prose,  and 
his  last  great  poetical  works ;  (7)  John  Bunyan,  his  extraordinary  life,  and  his 
chief  work,  The  Pilgrim'' s  Progress ;  (8)  the  Minor  Prose  Writers,  Burton, 
Browne,  Fuller,  Taylor,  Baxter,  and  Walton.  Three  books  selected  from  this 
group  are  Browne's  Religio  Medici,  Taylor's  Holy  Living  and  Dying,  and 
Walton's  Complete  Angler. 

Selections  for  Reading.  Milton.  Paradise  Lost,  books  1-2,  L'Allegro,  II 
Penseroso,  Comus,  Lycidas,  and  selected  Sonnets,  —  all  in  Standard  English 
Classics;  same  poems,  more  or  less  complete,  in  various  other  series;  Are- 
opagitica  and  Treatise  on  Education,  selections,  in  Manly's  English  Prose,  or 
Areopagitica  in  Arber's  English  Reprints,  Clarendon  Press  Series,  Morley's 
Universal  Library,  etc. 

Minor  Poets.  Selections  from  Herrick,  edited  by  Hale,  in  Athenaeum  Press 
Series;  selections  from  Herrick,  Lovelace,  Donne,  Herbert,  etc.,  in  Manly's  Eng- 
lish Poetry,  Golden  Treasury,  Oxford  Book  of  English  Verse,  etc,;  Vaughan's 
Silex  Scintillans,  in  Temple  Classics,  also  in  the  Aldine  Series  ;  Herbert's  The 
Temple,  in  Everyman's  Library,  Temple  Classics,  etc. 

Bunyan.  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  in  Standard  English  Classics,  Pocket 
Classics,  etc. ;  Grace  Abounding,  in  Cassell's  National  Library. 

Minor  Prose  Writers.  Wentworth's  Selections  from  Jeremy  Taylor; 
Browne's  Religio  Medici,  Walton's  Complete  Angler,  both  in  Everyman's 
Library,  Temple  Classics,  etc. ;  selections  from  Taylor,  Browne,  and  Walton 
in  Manly's  English  Prose,  also  in  Garnett's  English  Prose. 

Bibliography.1  History.  Text-book,  Montgomery,  pp.  238-257;  Cheyney, 
pp.  431-464;  Green,  ch.  8  ;  Traill ;  Gardiner. 

Special  Works.  Wakeling's  King  and  Parliament  (Oxford  Manuals) ;  Gar- 
diner's The  First  Two  Stuarts  and  the  Puritan  Revolution ;  Tulloch's  English 
Puritanism  and  its  Leaders  ;  Lives  of  Cromwell  by  Harrison,  by  Church,  and 
by  Morley ;  Carlyle's  Oliver  Cromwell's  Letters  and  Speeches. 

Literature.  Saintsbury's  Elizabethan  Literature  (extends  to  1660);  Master- 
man's  The  Age  of  Milton ;  Dowden's  Puritan  and  Anglican. 

Milton.  Texts,  Poetical  Works,  Globe  edition,  edited  by  Masson ;  Cam- 
bridge Poets  edition,  edited  by  Moody  ;  English  Prose  Writings,  edited  by 
Morley,  in  Carisbrooke  Library;  also  in  Bohn's  Standard  Library. 

Masson's  Life  of  John  Milton  (8  vols.) ;  Life,  by  Garnett,  by  Pattison  (Eng. 
lish  Men  of  Letters).  Raleigh's  Milton ;  Trent's  John  Milton ;  Corson's  Intro- 
duction to  Milton  ;  Brooke's  Milton,  in  Student's  Library ;  Macaulay's  Milton ; 
Lowell's  Essays,  in  Among  My  Books,  and  in  Latest  Literary  Essays ;  M.  Arnold's 
Essay,  in  Essays  in  Criticism ;  Dowden's  Essay,  in  Puritan  and  Anglican. 

1  For  titles  and  publishers  of  reference  works,  see  General  Bibliography  at  the  end 
of  this  book. 


234  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Cavalier  Poets.  Schelling's  Seventeenth  Century  Lyrics,  in  Athenaeum 
Press  Series ;  Cavalier  and  Courtier  Lyrists,  in  Canterbury  Poets  Series ; 
Gosse's  Jacobean  Poets ;  Lovelace,  etc.,  in  Library  of  Old  Authors. 

Donne.  Poems,  in  Muses'  Library ;  Life,  in  Walton's  Lives,  in  Temple  Classics, 
and  in  Morley's  Universal  Library ;  Life,  by  Gosse ;  Jessup's  John  Donne ; 
Dowden's  Essay,  in  New  Studies  ;  Stephen's  Studies  of  a  Biographer,  vol.  3. 

Herbert.  Palmer's  George  Herbert;  Poems  and  Prose  Selections,  edited 
by  Rhys,  in  Canterbury  Poets ;  Dowden's  Essay,  in  Puritan  and  Anglican. 

Biinyan.  Brown's  John  Bunyan,  His  Life,  Times,  and  Works ;  Life,  by 
Venables,  and  by  Froude  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  Essays  by  Macaulay,  by 
Dowden,  supra,  and  by  Woodberry,  in  Makers  of  Literature. 

Jeremy  Taylor.  Holy  Living,  Holy  Dying,  in  Temple  Classics,  and  in  Bonn's 
Standard  Library  ;  Selections,  edited  by  Wentworth  ;  Life,  by  Heber,  and  by 
Gosse  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  Dowden's  Essay,  supra. 

Thomas  Browne.  Works,  edited  by  Wilkin ;  the  same,  in  Temple  Classics, 
and  in  Bohn's  Library ;  Religio  Medici,  in  Everyman's  Library ;  essay  by 
Pater,  in  Appreciations ;  by  Dowden,  supra ;  and  by  L.  Stephen,  in  Hours 
in  a  Library;  Life,  by  Gosse  (English  Men  of  Letters). 

Izaak  Walton.  Works,  in  Temple  Classics,  Cassell's  Library,  and  Morley's 
Library ;  Introduction,  in  A.  Lang's  Walton's  Complete  Angler ;  Lowell's 
Essay,  in  Latest  Literary  Essays. 

Suggestive  Questions,  i.  What  is  meant  by  the  Puritan  period?  WThat 
were  the  objects  and  the  results  of  the  Puritan  movement  in  English  history? 

2.  What   are   the   main   characteristics  of   the   literature  of   this  period  ? 
Compare  it  with  Elizabethan  literature.    How  did  religion  and  politics  affect 
Puritan  literature  ?    Can  you  quote  any  passages  or  name  any  works  which 
justify  your  opinion  ? 

3.  What  is  meant  by  the  terms  Cavalier  poets,  Spenserian  poets,  Meta- 
physical poets  ?    Name  the  chief  writers  of  each  group.    To  whom  are  we 
indebted  for  our  first  English  hymn  book  ?    Would  you  call  this  a  work  of 
literature?    Why? 

4.  What  are  the  qualities  of  Herrick's  poetry  ?    What  marked  contrasts 
are  found  in  Herrick  and  in  nearly  all  the  poets  of  this  period? 

5.  Who  was  George  Herbert  ?    For  what  purpose  did  he  write  ?    What 
qualities  are  found  in  his  poetry  ? 

6.  Tell  briefly  the  story  of  Milton's  life.    What  are  the  three  periods  of  his 
literary  work  ?    What  is  meant  by  the  Horton  poems  ?    Compare  "  L'Allegro  " 
and  "II  Penseroso."    Are  there  any  Puritan  ideals  in  "Comus"?    Why  is 
"  Lycidas  "  often  put  at  the  summit  of  English  lyrical  poetry  ?   Give  the  main 
idea  or  argument  of  Paradise  Lost.    What  are  the  chief  qualities  of  the  poem  ? 
Describe  in  outline  Paradise  Regained  and  Samson  Agonistes.    What  personal 
element  entered  into  the  latter  ?    What  quality  strikes  you  most  forcibly  in 
Milton's  poetry  ?    WThat  occasioned  Milton's  prose  works  ?    Do  they  properly 
belong  to  literature  ?    Why  ?    Compare  Milton  and  Shakespeare  with  regard 
to  (i)  knowledge  of  men,  (2)  ideals  of  life,  (3)  purpose  in  writing. 


THE  PURITAN  AGE 


235 


7.  Tell  the  story  of  Bunyan's  life.    What  unusual  elements  are  found  in 
his  life  and  writings  ?    Give  the  main  argument  of  The  Pilgrim  'j  Progress.    If 
you  read  the  story  before  studying  literature,  tell  why  you  liked  or  disliked  it. 
Why  is  it  a  work  for  all  ages  and  for  all  races  ?    What  are  the  chief  qualities 
of  Bunyan's  style  ? 

8.  Who  are  the  minor  prose  writers  of  this  age  ?    Name  the  chief  works  of 
Jeremy  Taylor,  Thomas  Browne,  and  Izaak  Walton.    Can  you  describe  from 
your  own  reading  any  of  these  works  ?    How  does  the  prose  of  this  age  com- 
pare in  interest  with  the  poetry  ?    (Milton  is,  of  course,  excepted  in  this 
comparison.) 

CHRONOLOGY 

Seventeenth  Century 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


1625.  Charles  I 

Parliament  dissolved 

1628.  Petition  of  Right 

1630-1640.  King  rules  without  Parlia- 
ment. Puritan  migration  to 
New  England 

1640.  Long  Parliament 

1642.  Civil  War  begins 

1643.  Scotch  Covenant 
1643.  Press  censorship 

1645.  Battle  of  Naseby;  triumph  of 
Puritans 

1649.  Execution  of  Charles  I.  Cava- 
lier migration  to  Virginia 

1649-1660.  Commonwealth 


1653-1658.  Cromwell,  Protector 
1658-1660.  Richard  Cromwell 
1660.  Restoration  of  Charles  II 


1621.   Burton's   Anatomy   of    Melan- 
choly 
1623.  Wither's  Hymn  Book 


1629.  Milton's  Ode  on  the  Nativity 
1630-1633.  Herbert's  poems 


1632-1637.  Milton's  Horton  poems 
1642.  Browne's  Religio  Medici 
1644.  Milton's  Areopagitica 

1649.  Milton's  Tenure  of  Kings 

1650.  Baxter's  Saints'  Rest.    Jeremy 

Taylor's  Holy  Living 

1651.  Hobbes's  Leviathan 
1653.  Walton's  Complete  Angler 

1663-1694.    Dryden's    dramas    (next 
chapter) 

1666.  Bunyan's  Grace  Abounding 

1667.  Paradise  Lost 
1674.  Death  of  Milton 

1678.    Pilgrim's    Progress    published 
(written  earlier) 


CHAPTER  VIII 

PERIOD  OF  THE  RESTORATION  (1660-1700) 
THE  AGE  OF  FRENCH  INFLUENCE 

History  of  the  Period.  It  seems  a  curious  contradiction,  at  first 
glance,  to  place  the  return  of  Charles  II  at  the  beginning  of  modern 
England,  as  our  historians  are  wont  to  do;  for  there  was  never  a 
time  when  the  progress  of  liberty,  which  history  records,  was  more 
plainly  turned  backwards.  The  Puritan  regime  had  been  too  severe  ; 
it  had  repressed  too  many  natural  pleasures.  Now,  released  from 
restraint,  society  abandoned  the  decencies  of  life  and  the  reverence 
for  law  itself,  and  plunged  into  excesses  more  unnatural  than  had 
been  the  restraints  of  Puritanism.  The  inevitable  effect  of  excess  is 
disease,  and  for  almost  an  entire  generation  following  the  Restora- 
tion, in  1660,  England  lay  sick  of  a  fever.  Socially,  politically,  mor- 
ally, London  suggests  an  Italian  city  in  the  days  of  the  Medici ;  and 
its  literature,  especially  its  drama,  often  seems  more  like  the  delirium 
of  illness  than  the  expression  of  a  healthy  mind.  But  even  a  fever 
has  its  advantages.  Whatever  impurity  is  in  the  blood  "  is  burnt  and 
purged  away,"  and  a  man  rises  from  fever  with  a  new  strength  and 
a  new  idea  of  the  value  of  life,  like  King  Hezekiah,  who  after  his 
sickness  and  fear  of  death  resolved  to  "  go  softly  "  all  his  days.  The 
Restoration  was  the  great  crisis  in  English  history;  and  that  Eng- 
land lived  through  it  was  due  solely  to  the  strength  and  excellence 
of  that  Puritanism  which  she  thought  she  had  flung  to  the  winds 
when  she  welcomed  back  a  vicious  monarch  at  Dover.  The  chief 
lesson  of  the  Restoration  was  this,  —  that  it  showed  by  awful  contrast 
the  necessity  of  truth  and  honesty,  and  of  a  strong  government  of 
free  men,  for  which  the  Puritan  had  stood  like  a  rock  in  every  hour 
of  his  rugged  history.  Through  fever,  England  came  slowly  back  to 
health ;  through  gross  corruption  in  society  and  in  the  state  England 
learned  that  her  people  were  at  heart  sober,  sincere,  religious  folk, 
and  that  their  character  was  naturally  too  strong  to  follow  after 
pleasure  and  be  satisfied.  So  Puritanism  suddenly  gained  all  that 
it  had  struggled  for,  and  gained  it  even  in  the  hour  when  all  seemed 

236 


THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD  237 

lost,  when  Milton  in  his  sorrow  unconsciously  portrayed  the  govern- 
ment of  Charles  and  his  Cabal  in  that  tremendous  scene  of  the 
council  of  the  infernal  peers  in  Pandemonium,  plotting  the  ruin  of 
the  world. 

Of  the  king  and  his  followers  it  is  difficult  to  write  temperately. 
Most  of  the  dramatic  literature  of  the  time  is  atrocious,  and  we  can 
The  King  understand  it  only  as  we  remember  the  character  of  the 
and  his  court  and  society  for  which  it  was  written.  Unspeakably 

Followers  vjje  m  njs  private  life,  the  king  had  no  redeeming  patri- 
otism, no  sense  of  responsibility  to  his  country  for  even  his  public 
acts.  He  gave  high  offices  to  blackguards,  stole  from  the  exchequer 
like  a  common  thief,  played  off  Catholics  and  Protestants  against 
each  other,  disregarding  his  pledges  to  both  alike,  broke  his  solemn 
treaty  with  the  Dutch  and  with  his  own  ministers,  and  betrayed  his 
country  for  French  money  to  spend  on  his  own  pleasures.  It  is  use- 
less to  paint  the  dishonor  of  a  court  which  followed  gayly  after  such 
a  leader.  The  first  Parliament,  while  it  contained  some  noble  and 
patriotic  members,  was  dominated  by  young  men  who  remembered 
the  excess  of  Puritan  zeal,  but  forgot  the  despotism  and  injustice 
which  had  compelled  Puritanism  to  stand  up  and  assert  the  manhood 
of  England.  These  young  politicians  vied  with  the  king  in  passing 
laws  for  the  subjugation  of  Church  and  State,  and  in  their  thirst  for 
revenge  upon  all  who  had  been  connected  with  Cromwell's  iron  gov- 
ernment. Once  more  a  wretched  formalism  —  that  perpetual  danger 
to  the  English  Church  —  came  to  the  front  and  exercised  authority 
over  the  free  churches.  The  House  of  Lords  was  largely  increased 
by  the  creation  of  hereditary  titles  and  estates  for  ignoble  men  and 
shameless  women  who  had  flattered  the  king's  vanity.  Even  the 
Bench,  that  last  strong  refuge  of  English  justice,  was  corrupted  by 
the  appointment  of  judges,  like  the  brutal  Jeffreys,  whose  aim,  like 
that  of  their  royal  master,  was  to  get  money  and  to  exercise  power 
without  personal  responsibility.  Amid  all  this  dishonor  the  foreign 
influence  and  authority  of  Cromwell's  strong  government  vanished 
like  smoke.  The  valiant  little  Dutch  navy  swept  the  English  fleet 
from  the  sea,  and  only  the  thunder  of  Dutch  guns  in  the  Thames, 
under  the  very  windows  of  London,  awoke  the  nation  to  the  realiza- 
tion of  how  low  it  had  fallen. 

Two  considerations  must  modify  our  judgment  of  this  dishearten- 
ing spectacle.  First,  the  king  and  his  court  are  not  England. 
Though  our  histories  are  largely  filled  with  the  records  of  kings  and 


238  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

soldiers,  of  intrigues  and  fighting,  these  no  more  express  the  real 
life  of  a  people  than  fever  and  delirium  express  a  normal  manhood. 
Revolution  Though  king  and  court  and  high  society  arouse  our 
of  1688  disgust  or  pity,  records  are  not  wanting  to  show  that 

private  life  in  England  remained  honest  and  pure  even  in  the  worst 
days  of  the  Restoration.  While  London  society  might  be  entertained 
by  the  degenerate  poetry  of  Rochester  and  the  dramas  of  Dryden 
and  Wycherley,  English  scholars  hailed  Milton  with  delight ;  and  the 
common  people  followed  Bunyan  and  Baxter  with  their  tremendous 
appeal  to  righteousness  and  liberty.  Second,  the  king,  with  all  his 
pretensions  to  divine  right,  remained  only  a  figurehead;  and  the 
Anglo-Saxon  people,  when  they  tire  of  one  figurehead,  have  always 
the  will  and  the  power  to  throw  it  overboard  and  choose  a  better 
one.  The  country  was  divided  into  two  political  parties :  the  Whigs, 
who  sought  to  limit  the  royal  power  in  the  interests  of  Parliament 
and  the  people;  and  the  Tories,  who  strove  to  check  the  growing 
power  of  the  people  in  the  interests  of  their  hereditary  rulers.  Both 
parties,  however,  were  largely  devoted  to  the  Anglican  Church ;  and 
when  James  II,  after  four  years  of  misrule,  attempted  to  establish  a 
national  Catholicism  by  intrigues  which  aroused  the  protest  of  the 
Pope 1  as  well  as  of  Parliament,  then  Whigs  and  Tories,  Catholics 
and  Protestants,  united  in  England's  last  great  revolution. 

The  complete  and  bloodless  Revolution  of  1688,  which  called 
William  of  Orange  to  the  throne,  was  simply  the  indication  of  Eng- 
land's restored  health  and  sanity.  It  proclaimed  that  she  had  not 
long  forgotten,  and  could  never  again  forget,  the  lesson  taught  her 
by  Puritanism  in  its  hundred  years  of  struggle  and  sacrifice.  Modern 
England  was  firmly  established  by  the  Revolution,  which  was  brought 
about  by  the  excesses  of  the  Restoration. 

Literary  Characteristics.  In  the  literature  of  the  Restora- 
tion we  note  a  sudden  breaking  away  from  old  standards, 
French  just  as  society  broke  away  from  the  restraints  of 
influence  Puritanism.  Many  of  the  literary  men  had  been 
driven  out  of  England  with  Charles  and  his  court,  or  else  had 
followed  their  patrons  into  exile  in  the  days  of  the  Common- 
wealth. On  their  return  they  renounced  old  ideals  and  de- 
manded that  English  poetry  and  drama  should  follow  the 

1  Guizot's  History  of  the  Revolution  in  England. 


THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD  239 

style  to  which  they  had  become  accustomed  in  the  gayety  of" 
Paris.  We  read  with  astonishment  in  Pepys's  Diary  (1660- 
1669)  that  he  has  been  to  see  a  play  called  Midsummer  Night 's 
Dream,  but  that  he  will  never  go  again  to  hear  Shakespeare, 
"  for  it  is  the  most  insipid,  ridiculous  play  that  ever  I  saw  in 
my  life."  And  again  we  read  in  the  diary  of  Evelyn,  — 
another  writer  who  reflects  with  wonderful  accuracy  the  life 
and  spirit  of  the  Restoration,  —  "I  saw  Hamlet  played ;  but 
now  the  old  plays  begin  to  disgust  this  refined  age,  since  his 
Majesty's  being  so  long  abroad."  Since  Shakespeare  and  the 
Elizabethans  were  no  longer  interesting,  literary  men  began 
to  imitate  the  French  writers,  with  whose  works  they  had 
just  grown  familiar ;  and  here  begins  the  so-called  period  of 
French  influence,  which  shows  itself  in  English  literature  for 
the  next  century,  instead  of  the  Italian  influence  which  had 
been  dominant  since  Spenser  and  the  Elizabethans. 

One  has  only  to  consider  for  a  moment  the  French  writers 
of  this  period,  Pascal,  Bossuet,  Fenelon,  Malherbe,  Corneille, 
Racine,  Moliere,  —  all  that  brilliant  company  which  makes 
the  reign  of  Louis  XIV  the  Elizabethan  Age  of  French  litera- 
ture, —  to  see  how  far  astray  the  early  writers  of  the  Restora- 
tion went  in  their  wretched  imitation.  When  a  man  takes 
another  for  his  model,  he  should  copy  virtues  not  vices ;  but 
unfortunately  many  English  writers  reversed  the  rule,  copy- 
ing the  vices  of  French  comedy  without  any  of  its  wit  or  deli- 
cacy or  abundant  ideas.  The  poems  of  Rochester,  the  plays 
of  Dryden,  Wycherley,  Congreve,  Vanbrugh,  and  Farquhar,  all 
popular  in  their  day,  are  mostly  unreadable.  Milton's  "sons 
of  Belial,  flown  with  insolence  and  wine,"  is  a  good  expression 
of  the  vile  character  of  the  court  writers  and  of  the  London 
theaters  for  thirty  years  following  the  Restoration.  Such  work 
can  never  satisfy  a  people,  and  when  Jeremy  Collier,1  in  1698, 

1  Jeremy  Collier  (1650-1726),  a  clergyman  and  author,  noted  for  his  scholarly  Eccle- 
siastical History  of  Great  Britain  (1708-1714)  and  his  Short  View  of  the  Immorality  and 
Profanenessofthe  English  Stage  (1698).  The  latter  was  largely  instrumental  in  correct- 
ing the  low  tendency  of  the  Restoration  drama. 


240  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

published  a  vigorous  attack  upon  the  evil  plays  and  the  play- 
wrights of  the  day,  all  London,  tired  of  the  coarseness  and 
excesses  of  the  Restoration,  joined  the  literary  revolution, 
and  the  corrupt  drama  was  driven  from  the  stage. 

With  the  final  rejection  of  the  Restoration  drama  we  reach 
a  crisis  in  the  history  of  our  literature.  The  old  Elizabethan 
New  Tend-  spirit,  with  its  patriotism,  its  creative  vigor,  its  love 
encies  of  romance,  and  the  Puritan  spirit  with  its  moral 

earnestness  and  individualism,  were  both  things  of  the  past ; 
and  at  first  there  was  nothing  to  take  their  places.  Dryden, 
the  greatest  writer  of  the  age,  voiced  a  general  complaint 
when  he  said  that  in  his  prose  and  poetry  he  was  "drawing 
the  outlines  "  of  a  new  art,  but  had  no  teacher  to  instruct 
him.  But  literature  is  a  progressive  art,  and  soon  the  writers 
of  the  age  developed  two  marked  tendencies  of  their  own,  — 
the  tendency  to  realism,  and  the  tendency  to  that  preciseness 
and  elegance  of  expression  which  marks  our  literature  for  the 
next  hundred  years. 

In  realism  —  that  is,  the  representation  of  men  exactly  as 
they  are,  the  expression  of  the  plain,  unvarnished  truth  with- 

^  out  regard  to  ideals  or  romance  —  the  tendency 

was  at  first  thoroughly  bad.  The  early  Restora- 
tion writers  sought  to  paint  realistic  pictures  of  a  corrupt 
court  and  society,  and,  as  we  have  suggested,  they  emphasized 
vices  rather  than  virtues,  and  gave  us  coarse,  low  plays  with- 
out interest  or  moral  significance.  Like  Hobbes,  they  saw 
only  the  externals  of  man,  his  body  and  appetites,  not  his 
soul  and  its  ideals ;  and  so,  like  most  realists,  they  resemble 
a  man  lost  in  the  woods,  who  wanders  aimlessly  around  in 
circles,  seeing  the  confusing  trees  but  never  the  whole  forest, 
and  who  seldom  thinks  of  climbing  the  nearest  high  hill  to 
get  his  bearings.  Later,  however,  this  tendency  to  realism 
became  more  wholesome.  While  it  neglected  romantic  poetry, 
in  which  youth  is  eternally  interested,  it  led  to  a  keener 
study  of  the  practical  motives  which  govern  human  action. 


THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD  241 

The  second  tendency  of  the  age  was  toward  directness  and 
simplicity  of  expression,  and  to  this  excellent  tendency  our 
literature  is  greatly  indebted.  In  both  the  Eliza- 
bethan and  the  Puritan  ages  the  general  tendency 
of  writers  was  towards  extravagance  of  thought  and  language. 
Sentences  were  often  involved,  and  loaded  with  Latin  quota- 
tions and  classical  allusions.  The  Restoration  writers  opposed 
this  vigorously.  From  France  they  brought  back  the  tendency 
to  regard  established  rules  for  writing,  to  emphasize  close 
reasoning  rather  than  romantic  fancy,  and  to  use  short,  clean- 
cut  sentences  without  an  unnecessary  word.  We  see  this 
French  influence  in  the  Royal  Society,1  which  had  for  one  of 
its  objects  the  reform  of  English  prose  by  getting  rid  of  its 
"swellings  of  style,"  and  which  bound  all  its  members  to  use 
"a  close,  naked,  natural  way  of  speaking  ...  as  near  to 
mathematical  plainness  as  they  can."  Dryden  accepted  this 
excellent  rule  for  his  prose,  and  adopted  the  heroic  couplet, 
as  the  next  best  thing,  for  the  greater  part  of  his  poetry.  As 
he  tells  us  himself  : 

And  this  unpolished  rugged  verse  I  chose 
As  fittest  for  discourse,  and  nearest  prose. 

It  is  largely  due  to  him  that  writers  developed  that  formal- 
ism of  style,  that  precise,  almost  mathematical  elegance, 
miscalled  classicism,  which  ruled  English  literature  for  the 
next  century.2 

Another  thing  which  the  reader  will  note  with  interest  in 
Restoration  literature  is  the  adoption  of  the  heroic  couplet;  that 
is,  two  iambic  pentameter  lines  which  rime  together,  as  the 

1  The  Royal  Society,  for  the  investigation  and  discussion  of  scientific  questions,  was 
founded  in  1662,  and  soon  included  practically  all  of  the  literary  and  scientific  men  of 
the  age.   It  encouraged  the  work  of  Isaac  Newton,  who  was  one  of  its  members  ;  and  its 
influence  for  truth  —  at  a  time  when  men  were  stUl  trying  to  compound  the  philosopher's 
stone,  calculating  men's  actions  from  the  stars,  and  hanging  harmless  old  women  for 
witches  —  can  hardly  be  overestimated. 

2  If  the  reader  would  see  this  in  concrete  form,  let  him  read  a  paragraph  of  Milton's 
prose,  or  a  stanza  of  his  poetry,  and  compare  its  exuberant,  melodious  diction  with 
Dryden's  concise  method  of  writing. 


242     .  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

most  suitable  form  of  poetry.  Waller,1  who  began  to  use  it 
in  1623,  is  generally  regarded  as  the  father  of  the  couplet,  for 
he  is  the  first  poet  to  use  it  consistently  in  the  bulk 
of  his  poetry.  Chaucer  had  used  the  rimed  couplet 
wonderfully  well  in  his  Canterbury  Tales,  but  in  Chaucer  it 
is  the  poetical  thought  more  than  the  expression  which  de- 
lights us.  With  the  Restoration  writers,  form  counts  for 
everything.  Waller  and  Dryden  made  the  couplet  the  prevail- 
ing literary  fashion,  and  in  their  hands  the  couplet  becomes 
"closed";  that  is,  each  pair  of  lines  must  contain  a  complete 
thought,  stated  as  precisely  as  possible.  Thus  Waller  writes : 

The  soul's  dark  cottage,  battered  and  decayed, 

Lets  in  new  light  through  chinks  that  time  has  made.2 

That  is  a  kind  of  aphorism  such  as  Pope  made  in  large  quan- 
tities in  the  following  age.  It  contains  a  thought,  is  catchy, 
quotable,  easy  to  remember ;  and  the  Restoration  writers  de- 
lighted in  it.  Soon  this  mechanical  closed  couplet,  in  which 
the  second  line  was  often  made  first,3  almost  excluded  all 
other  forms  of  poetry.  It  was  dominant  in  England  for  a  full 
century,  and  we  have  grown  familiar  with  it,  and  somewhat 
weary  of  its  monotony,  in  such  famous  poems  as  Pope's  "Essay 
on  Man"  and  Goldsmith's  "Deserted  Village."  These,  how- 
ever, are  essays  rather  than  poems.  That  even  the  couplet  is 
capable  of  melody  and  variety  is  shown  in  Chaucer's  Tales  and 
in  Keats' s  exquisite  Endymion. 

These  four  things,  the  tendency  to  vulgar  realism  in  the 
drama,  a  general  formalism  which  came  from  following  set 
rules,  the  development  of  a  simpler  and  more  direct  prose 
style,  and  the  prevalence  of  the  heroic  couplet  in  poetry  are 
the  main  characteristics  of  Restoration  literature.  They  are 
all  exemplified  in  the  work  of  one  man,  John  Dryden. 

1  Edmund  Waller  (1606-1687),  the  most  noted  poet  of  the  Restoration  period  until 
his  pupil  Dryden  appeared.  His  works  are  now  seldom  read. 

'2  From  Divine  Poems,  "  Old  Age  and  Death." 

3  Following  the  advice  of  Boileau  (1676-1711),  a  noted  French  critic,  whom  Voltaire 
called  "  the  lawgiver  of  Parnassus." 


THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD  243 

JOHN  DRYDEN  (1631-1700) 

Dryden  is  the  greatest  literary  figure  of  the  Restoration, 
and  in  his  work  we  have  an  excellent  reflection  of  both  the 
good  and  the  evil  tendencies  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  If 
we  can  think  for  a  moment  of  literature  as  a  canal  of  water, 
we  may  appreciate  the  figure  that  Dryden  is  the  "lock  by 
which  the  waters  of  English  poetry  were  let  down  from  the 
mountains  of  Shakespeare  and  Milton  to  the  plain  of  Pope  " ; 
that  is,  he  stands  between  two  very  different  ages,  and  serves 
as  a  transition  from  one  to  the  other. 

Life.  Dryden's  life  contains  so  many  conflicting  elements  of 
greatness  and  littleness  that  the  biographer  is  continually  taken 
away  from  the  facts,  which  are  his  chief  concern,  to  judge  motives, 
which  are  manifestly  outside  his  knowledge  and  business.  Judged 
by  his  own  opinion  of  himself,  as  expressed  in  the  numerous  pref- 
aces to  his  works,  Dryden  was  the  soul  of  candor,  writing  with  no 
other  master  than  literature,  and  with  no  other  object  than  to  advance 
the  welfare  of  his  age  and  nation.  Judged  by  his  acts,  he  was  appar- 
ently a  timeserver,  catering  to  a  depraved  audience  in  his  dramas, 
and  dedicating  his  work  with  much  flattery  to  those  who  were  easily 
cajoled  by  their  vanity  into  sharing  their  purse  and  patronage.  In 
this,  however,  he  only  followed  the  general  custom  of  the  time,  and 
is  above  many  of  his  contemporaries. 

Dryden  was  born  in  the  village  of  Aldwinkle,  Northamptonshire, 
in  1631.  His  family  were  prosperous  people,  who  brought  him  up 
in  the  strict  Puritan  faith,  and  sent  him  first  to  the  famous  West- 
minster school  and  then  to  Cambridge.  He  made  excellent  use  of  his 
opportunities  and  studied  eagerly,  becoming  one  of  the  best  educated 
men  of  his  age,  especially  in  the  classics.  Though  of  remarkable 
literary  taste,  he  showed  little  evidence  of  literary  ability  up  to  the 
age  of  thirty.  By  his  training  and  family  connections  he  was  allied 
to  the  Puritan  party,  and  his  only  well-known  work  of  this  period, 
the  "  Heroic  Stanzas,"  was  written  on  the  death  of  Cromwell : 

His  grandeur  he  derived  from  Heaven  alone, 
For  he  was  great  ere  Fortune  made  him  so  ; 

And  wars,  like  mists  that  rise  against  the  sun, 
Made  him  but  greater  seem,  not  greater  grow. 


244 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


In  these  four  lines,  taken  almost  at  random  from  the  "  Heroic 
Stanzas,"  we  have  an  epitome  of  the  thought,  the  preciseness,  and 
the  polish  that  mark  all  his  literary  work. 

This  poem  made  Dryden  well  known,  and  he  was  in  a  fair  way 
to  become  the  new  poet  of  Puritanism  when  the  Restoration  made 
a  complete  change  in  his  methods.  He  had  come  to  London  for  a 
literary  life,  and  when  the  Royalists  were  again  in  power  he  placed 
himself  promptly  on  the  winning  side.  His  "  Astraea  Redux,"  a  poem 


LIBRARY   AT  TRINITY  COLLEGE,  CAMBRIDGE 

of  welcome  to  Charles  II,  and  his  "  Panegyric  to  his  Sacred  Majesty," 
breathe  more  devotion  to  "  the  old  goat,"  as  the  king  was  known  to 
his  courtiers,  than  had  his  earlier  poems  to  Puritanism. 

In  1667  he  became  more  widely  known  and  popular  by  his 
"Annus  Mirabilis,"  a  narrative  poem  describing  the  terrors  of  the 
great  fire  in  London  and  some  events  of  the  disgraceful  war  with 
Holland ;  but  with  the  theaters  reopened  and  nightly  filled,  the 
drama  offered  the  most  attractive  field  to  one  who  made  his  living 
by  literature ;  so  Dryden  turned  to  the  stage  and  agreed  to  furnish 
three  plays  yearly  for  the  actors  of  the  King's  Theater.  For  nearly 


THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD  245 

twenty  years,  the  best  of  his  life,  Dryden  gave  himself  up  to  this 
unfortunate  work.  Both  by  nature  and  habit  he  seems  to  have  been 
clean  in  his  personal  life ;  but  the  stage  demanded  unclean  plays, 
and  Dryden  followed  his  audience.  That  he  deplored  this  is  evident 
from  some  of  his  later  work,  and  we  have  his  statement  that  he 
wrote  only  one  play,  his  best,  to  please  himself.  This  was  All  for 
Love,  which  was  written  in  blank  verse,  most  of  the  others  being  in 
rimed  couplets. 

During  this  time  Dryden  had  become  the  best  known  literary  man 
of  London,  and  was  almost  as  much  a  dictator  to  the  literary  set 
which  gathered  in  the  taverns  and  coffeehouses  as  Ben  Jonson  had 
been  before  him.  His  work,  meanwhile,  was  rewarded  by  large  finan- 
cial returns,  and  by  his  being  appointed  poet  laureate  and  collector 
of  the  port  of  London.  The  latter  office,  it  may  be  remembered, 
had  once  been  held  by  Chaucer. 

At  fifty  years  of  age,  and  before  Jeremy  Collier  had  driven  his 
dramas  from  the  stage,  Dryden  turned  from  dramatic  work  to  throw 
himself  into  the  strife  of  religion  and  politics,  writing  at  this  period 
his  numerous  prose  and  poetical  treatises.  In  1682  appeared  his 
Religio  Laid  (Religion  of  a  Layman),  defending  the  Anglican 
Church  against  all  other  sects,  'especially  the  Catholics  and  Presby- 
terians ;  but  three  years  later,  when  James  II  came  to  the  throne 
with  schemes  to  establish  the  Roman  faith,  Dryden  turned  Catholic 
and  wrote  his  most  famous  religious  poem,  "The  Hind  and  the 
Panther,"  beginning : 

A  milk-white  Hind,  immortal  and  unchanged, 
Fed  on  the  lawns  and  in  the  forest  ranged ; 
Without  unspotted,  innocent  within, 
She  feared  no  danger,  for  she  knew  no  sin. 

This  hind  is  a  symbol  for  the  Roman  Church ;  and  the  Anglicans, 
as  a  panther,  are  represented  as  persecuting  the  faithful.  Numer- 
ous other  sects — Calvinists,  Anabaptists,  Quakers — were  represented 
by  the  wolf,  boar,  hare,  and  other  animals,  which  gave  the  poet  an 
excellent  chance  for  exercising  his  satire.  Dryden's  enemies  made 
the  accusation,  often  since  repeated,  of  hypocrisy  in  thus  changing 
his  church;  but  that  he  was  sincere  in  the  matter  can  now  hardly 
be  questioned,  for  he  knew  how  to  "suffer  for  the  faith"  and  to 
be  true  to  his  religion,  even  when  it  meant  misjudgment  and  loss  of 
fortune.  At  the  Revolution  of  1688  he  refused  allegiance  to  William 


246  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  Orange ;  he  was  deprived  of  all  his  offices  and  pensions,  and  as 
an  old  man  was  again  thrown  back  on  literature  as  his  only  means  of 
livelihood.  He  went  to  work  with  extraordinary  courage  and  energy, 
writing  plays,  poems,  prefaces  for  other  men,  eulogies  for  funeral 
occasions,  —  every  kind  of  literary  work  that  men  would  pay  for. 
His  most  successful  work  at  this  time  was  his  translations,  which  re- 
sulted in  the  complete  <£Lneid  and  many  selections  from  Homer, 
Ovid,  and  Juvenal,  appearing  in  English  rimed  couplets.  His  most 
enduring  poem,  the  splendid  ode  called  "  Alexander's  Feast,"  was 
written  in  1697.  Three  years  later  he  published  his  last  work, 
Fables,  containing  poetical  paraphrases  of  the  tales  of  Boccaccio  and 
Chaucer,  and  the  miscellaneous  poems  of  his  last  years.  Long  pref- 
aces were  the  fashion  in  Dryden's  day,  and  his  best  critical  work  is 
found  in  his  introductions.  The  preface  to  the  Fables  is  generally 
admired  as  an  example  of  the  new  prose  style  developed  by  Dryden 
and  his  followers. 

From  the  literary  view  point  these  last  troubled  years  were  the 
best  of  Dryden's  life,  though  they  were  made  bitter  by  obscurity 
and  by  the  criticism  of  his  numerous  enemies.  He  died  in  1700 
and  was  buried  near  Chaucer  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

Works  of  Dryden.  The  numerous  dramatic  works  of  Dry- 
den  are  best  left  in  that  obscurity  into  which  they  have  fallen. 
Now  and  then  they  contain  a  bit  of  excellent  lyric  poetry, 
and  in  All  for  Love,  another  version  of  Antony  and  Cleopatra, 
where  he  leaves  his  cherished  heroic  couplet  for  the  blank 
verse  of  Marlowe  and  Shakespeare,  he  shows  what  he  might 
have  done  had  he  not  sold  his  talents  to  a  depraved  audience. 
On  the  whole,  reading  his  plays  is  like  nibbling  at  a  rotting 
apple ;  even  the  good  spots  are  affected  by  the  decay,  and 
one  ends  by  throwing  the  whole  thing  into  the  garbage  can, 
where  most  of  the  dramatic  works  of  this  period  belong. 

The    controversial    and  satirical   poems    are   on   a  higher 

plane ;  though,  it  must  be  confessed,  Dryden's  satire  often 

strikes  us  as  cutting  and  revengeful,  rather  than 

witty.    The  best  known  of  these,  and  a  masterpiece 

of  its  kind,  is  "  Absalom  and  Achitophel,"  which  is  undoubtedly 

the  most  powerful  political  satire  in  our  language.    Taking 


THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD  247 

the  Bible  story  of  David  and  Absalom,  he  uses  it  to  ridicule 
the  Whig  party  and  also  to  revenge  himself  upon  his  enemies. 
Charles  II  appeared  as  King  David;  his  natural  son,  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth,  who  was  mixed  up  in  the  Rye  House 
Plot,  paraded  as  Absalom  ;  Shaftesbury  was  Achitophel,  the 
evil  Counselor ;  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  was  satirized 
as  Zimri.  The  poem  had  enormous  political  influence,  and 
raised  Dryden,  in  the  opinion  of  his  contemporaries,  to  the 
front  rank  of  English  poets.  Two  extracts  from  the  powerful 
characterizations  of  Achitophel  and  Zimri  are  given  here  to 
show  the  style  and  spirit  of  the  whole  work. 

(SHAFTESBURY) 

Of  these  the  false  Achitophel  was  first ; 
A  name  to  all  succeeding  ages  cursed : 
For  close  designs  and  crooked  counsels  fit ; 
Sagacious,  bold,  and  turbulent  of  wit ; 
Restless,  unfixed  in  principles  and  place  ; 
In  power  unpleased,  impatient  of  disgrace  : 
A  fiery  soul,  which,  working  out  its  way, 
Fretted  the  pygmy  body  to  decay.  .  .  . 
A  daring  pilot  in  extremity, 

Pleased  with  the  danger,  when  the  waves  went  high 
He  sought  the  storms :  but  for  a  calm  unfit, 
Would  steer  too  nigh  the  sands  to  boast  his  wit. 
Great  wits  are  sure  to  madness  near  allied, 
And  thin  partitions  do  their  bounds  divide  ; 
Else  why  should  he,  with  wealth  and  honor  blest, 
Refuse  his  age  the  needful  hours  of  rest  ? 
Punish  a  body  which  he  could  not  please ; 
Bankrupt  of  life,  yet  prodigal  of  ease  ? 
And  all  to  leave  what  with  his  toil  he  won, 
To  that  unfeathered  two-legged  thing,  a  son.  .  .  . 
In  friendship  false,  implacable  in  hate  ; 
Resolved  to  ruin  or  to  rule  the  state  ;  .  . 
Then  seized  with  fear,  yet  still  affecting  fame, 
Usurped  a  patriot's  all-atoning  name. 
So  easy  still  it  proves  in  factious  times 
With  public  zeal  to  cancel  private  crimes. 


248  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

(THE  DUKE  OF  BUCKINGHAM) 

Some  of  their  chiefs  were  princes  of  the  land ; 
In  the  first  rank  of  these  did  Zimri  stand, 
A  man  so  various,  that  he  seemed  to  be 
Not  one,  but  all  mankind's  epitome : 
Stiff  in  opinions,  always  in  the  wrong, 
Was  everything  by  starts  and  nothing  long; 
But,  in  the  course  of  one  revolving  moon, 
Was  chymist,  fiddler,  statesman,  and  buffoon ; 
Then  all  for  women,  painting,  rhyming,  drinking, 
Besides  ten  thousand  freaks  that  died  in  thinking. 
Blest  madman,  who  could  every  hour  employ 
With  something  new  to  wish  or  to  enjoy ! 
Railing  and  praising  were  his  usual  themes, 
And  both,  to  show  his  judgment,  in  extremes: 
So  over-violent,  or  over-civil, 
That  every  man  with  him  was  God  or  devil. 

Of  the  many  miscellaneous  poems  of  Dryden,  the  curious 
reader  will  get  an  idea  of  his  sustained  narrative  power  from 
the  Anmis  Mirabilis.  The  best  expression  of  Dryden's  liter- 
ary genius,  however,  is  found  in  "Alexander's  Feast,"  which 
is  his  most  enduring  ode,  and  one  of  the  best  in  our  language. 

As  a  prose  writer  Dryden  had  a  very  marked  influence  on 
our  literature  in  shortening  his  sentences,  and  especially  in 
Prose  and  writing  naturally,  without  depending  on  literary 
Criticism  ornamentation  to  give  effect  to  what  he  is  saying. 
If  we  compare  his  prose  with  that  of  Milton,  or  Browne,  or 
Jeremy  Taylor,  we  note  that  Dryden  cares  less  for  style  than 
any  of  the  others,  but  takes  more  pains  to  state  his  thought 
clearly  and  concisely,  as  men  speak  when  they  wish  to  be 
understood.  The  classical  school,  which  followed  the  Restora- 
tion, looked  to  Dryden  as  a  leader,  and  to  him  we  owe  largely 
that  tendency  to  exactness  of  expression  which  marks  our 
subsequent  prose  writing.  With  his  prose,  Dryden  rapidly 
developed  his  critical  ability,  and  became  the  foremost  critic * 

1  By  a  critic  we  mean  simply  one  who  examines  the  literary  works  of  various  ages, 
separates  the  good  from  the  bad,  and  gives  the  reasons  for  his  classification.  It  is  notice- 
able that  critical  writings  increase  in  an  age,  like  that  of  the  Restoration,  when  great 
creative  works  are  wanting. 


THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD 


249 


of  his  age.  His  criticisms,  instead  of  being  published  as  inde- 
pendent works,  were  generally  used  as  prefaces  or  introduc- 
tions to  his  poetry.  The  best  known  of  these  criticisms  are 
the  preface  to  the  Fables,  "Of  Heroic  Plays,"  "Discourse  on 
Satire,"  and  especially  the  "  Essay  of  Dramatic  Poesy"  (1668), 
which  attempts  to  lay  a  foundation  for  all  literary  criticism. 

Dryden's  Influence  on  Literature.    Dryden's  place  among 
authors  is  due  partly  to  his  great  influence  on  the  succeeding 


WESTMINSTER 

age  of  classicism.  Briefly,  this  influence  may  be  summed  up 
by  noting  the  three  new  elements  which  he  brought  into  our 
literature.  These  are:  (i)  the  establishment  of  the  heroic 
couplet  as  the  fashion  for  satiric,  didactic,  and  descriptive 
poetry  ;  (2)  his  development  of  a  direct,  serviceable  prose  style 
such  as  we  still  cultivate  ;  and  (3)  his  development  of  the  art  of 
literary  criticism  in  his  essays  and  in  the  numerous  prefaces 
to  his  poems.  This  is  certainly  a  large  work  for  one  man  to 
accomplish,  and  Dryden  is  worthy  of  honor,  though  compara- 
tively little  of  what  he  wrote  is  now  found  on  our  bookshelves. 


250  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Samuel  Butler  (1612-1680).  In  marked  contrast  with  Dry- 
den,  who  devoted  his  life  to  literature  and  won  his  success 
by  hard  work,  is  Samuel  Butler,  who  jumped  into  fame  by  a 
single,  careless  work,  which  represents  not  any  serious  intent 
or  effort,  but  the  pastime  of  an  idle  hour.  We  are  to  remem- 
ber that,  though  the  Royalists  had  triumphed  in  the  Restora- 
tion, the  Puritan  spirit  was  not  dead,  nor  even  sleeping,  and 
that  the  Puritan  held  steadfastly  to  his  own  principles.  Against 
these  principles  of  justice,  truth,  and  liberty  there  was  no 
argument,  since  they  expressed  the  manhood  of  England  ; 
but  many  of  the  Puritan  practices  were  open  to  ridicule,  and 
the  Royalists,  in  revenge  for  their  defeat,  began  to  use  ridicule 
without  mercy.  During  the  early  years  of  the  Restoration 
doggerel  verses  ridiculing  Puritanism,  and  burlesque,  —  that 
is,  a  ridiculous  representation  of  serious  subjects,  or  a  serious 
representation  of  ridiculous  subjects,  —  were  the  most  popular 
form  of  literature  with  London  society.  Of  all  this  burlesque 
and  doggerel  the  most  famous  is  Butler's  Hudibras,  a  work 
to  which  we  can  trace  many  of  the  prejudices  that  still  pre- 
vail against  Puritanism. 

Of  Butler  himself  we  know  little ;  he  is  one  of  the  most 
obscure  figures  in  our  literature.  During  the  days  of  Crom- 
well's Protectorate  he  was  in  the  employ  of  Sir  Samuel  Luke, 
a  crabbed  and  extreme  type  of  Puritan  nobleman,  and  here 
he  collected  his  material  and  probably  wrote  the  first  part  of 
his  burlesque,  which,  of  course,  he  did  not  dare  to  publish 
until  after  the  Restoration. 

Hudibras  is  plainly  modeled  upon  the  Don  Quixote  of 
Cervantes.  It  describes  the  adventures  of  a  fanatical  justice 
of  the  peace,  Sir  Hudibras,  and  of  his  squire, 
Ralpho,  in  their  endeavor  to  put  down  all  innocent 
pleasures.  In  Hudibras  and  Ralpho  the  two  extreme  types  of 
the  Puritan  party,  Presbyterians  and  Independents,  are  merci- 
lessly ridiculed.  When  the  poem  first  appeared  in  public,  in 
1663,  after  circulating  secretly  for  years  in  manuscript,  it 


THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD  251 

became  at  once  enormously  popular.  The  king  carried  a  copy 
in  his  pocket,  and  courtiers  vied  with  each  other  in  quoting 
its  most  scurrilous  passages.  A  second  and  a  third  part,  con- 
tinuing the  adventures  of  Hudibras,  were  published  in  1664 
and  1668.  At  best  the  work  is  a  wretched  doggerel,  but  it 
was  clever  enough  and  strikingly  original ;  and  since  it  ex- 
pressed the  Royalist  spirit  towards  the  Puritans,  it  speedily 
found  its  place  in  a  literature  which  reflects  every  phase  of 
human  life.  A  few  odd  lines  are  given  here  to  show  the 
character  of  the  work,  and  to  introduce  the  reader  to  the  best 
known  burlesque  in  our  language  : 

He  was  in  logic  a  great  critic, 
Profoundly  skilled  in  analytic  ; 
He  could  distinguish,  and  divide 
A  hair  'twixt  south  and  southwest  side ; 
On  either  which  he  would  dispute, 
Confute,  change  hands,  and  still  confute ; 
He  'd  undertake  to  prove,  by  force 
Of  argument,  a  man 's  no  horse  ; 
He  'd  run  in  debt  by  disputation, 
And  pay  with  ratiocination. 

For  he  was  of  that  stubborn  crew 
Of  errant  saints,  whom  all  men  grant 
To  be  the  true  Church  Militant ; 
Such  as  do  build  their  faith  upon 
The  holy  text  of  pike  and  gun  ; 
Decide  all  controversies  by 
Infallible  artillery  ; 
And  prove  their  doctrine  orthodox 
By  apostolic  blows  and  knocks  ; 
Compound  for  sins  they  are  inclined  to, 
By  damning  those  .they  have  no  mind  to. 

Hobbes  and  Locke.  Thomas  Hobbes  (1588-1679)  is  one 
of  the  writers  that  puzzle  the  historian  with  a  doubt  as  to 
whether  or  not  he  should  be  included  in  the  story  of  litera- 
ture. The  one  book  for  which  he  is  famous  is  called  Levia- 
than, or  the  Matter,  Form,  and  Power  of  a  Commonwealth 
(1651).  It  is  partly  political,  partly  a  philosophical  book, 


252  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

combining  two  central  ideas  which  challenge  and  startle  the 
attention,  namely,  that  self-interest  is  the  only  guiding  power 
of  humanity,  and  that  blind  submission  to  rulers  is  the  only 
true  basis  of  government.1  In  a  word,  Hobbes  reduced  human 
nature  to  its  purely  animal  aspects,  and  then  asserted  con- 
fidently that  there  was  nothing  more  to  study.  Certainly, 
therefore,  as  a  reflection  of  the  underlying  spirit  of  Charles 
and  his  followers  it  has  no  equal  in  any  purely  literary  work 
of  the  time. 

John  Locke  (1632-1704)  is  famous  as  the  author  of  a 
single  great  philosophical  work,  the  Essay  concerning  Human 
Understanding  (1690).  This  is  a  study  of  the  nature  of  the 
human  mind  and  of  the  origin  of  ideas,  which,  far  more  than 
the  work  of  Bacon  and  Hobbes,  is  the  basis  upon  which  Eng- 
lish philosophy  has  since  been  built.  Aside  from  their  subjects, 
both  works  are  models  of  the  new  prose,  direct,  simple,  con- 
vincing, for  which  Dryden  and  the  Royal  Society  labored. 
They  are  known  to  every  student  of  philosophy,  but  are  sel- 
dom included  in  a  work  of  literature.2 

Evelyn  and  Pepys.  These  two  men,  John  Evelyn  (1620- 
1706)  and  Samuel  Pepys  (1633-1703),  are  famous  as  the 
writers  of  diaries,  in  which  they  jotted  down  the  daily  occur- 
rences of  their  own  lives,  without  any  thought  that  the  world 
would  ever  see  or  be  interested  in  what  they  had  written. 

1  Two  other  principles  of  this  book  should  be  noted :  (i)  that  all  power  originates  in 
the  people ;  and  (2)  that  the  object  of  all  government  is  the  common  good.    Here  evi- 
dently is  a  democratic  doctrine,  which  abolishes  the  divine  right  of  kings ;  but  Hobbes 
immediately  destroys  democracy  by  another  doctrine,  —  that  the  power  given  by  the 
people  to  the  ruler  could  not  be  taken  away.   Hence  the  Royalists  could  use  the  book  to 
justify  the  despotism  of  the  Stuarts  on  the  ground  that  the  people  had  chosen  them. 
This  part  of  the  book  is  in  direct  opposition  to  Milton's  Defense  of  the  English  People. 

2  Locke's  Treatises  on  Government  should  also  be  mentioned,  for  they  are  of  pro- 
found interest  to  American  students  of  history  and  political  science.   It  was  from  Locke 
that  the  framers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  and  of  the  Constitution  drew  many 
of  their  ideas,  and  even  some  of  their  most  striking  phrases.   "  All  men  are  endowed 
with  certain  inalienable  rights";  "life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness";  "the 
origin  and  basis  of  government  is  in  the  consent  of  the  governed,"  —  these  and  many 
more  familiar  and  striking  expressions  are  from  Locke.   It  is  interesting  to  note  that  he 
was  appointed  to  draft  a  constitution  for  the  new  province  of  Carolina ;  but  his  work 
was  rejected,  —  probably  because  it  was  too  democratic  for  the  age  in  which  he  lived. 


THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD  253 

Evelyn  was  the  author  of  Sylva,  the  first  book  on  trees 
and  forestry  in  English,  and  Terra,  which  is  the  first  attempt 
at  a  scientific  study  of  agriculture ;  but  the  world  has  lost 
sight  of  these  two  good  books,  while  it  cherishes  his  diary, 
which  extends  over  the  greater  part  of  his  life  and  gives  us 
vivid  pictures  of  society  in  his  time,  and  especially  of  the 
frightful  corruption  of  the  royal  court. 

Pepys  began  life  in  a  small  way  as  a  clerk  in  a  government 
office,  but  soon  rose  by  his  diligence  and  industry  to  be  Sec- 
retary of  the  Admiralty.  Here  he  was  brought  into 
y  contact  with  every  grade  of  society,  from  the  king's 
ministers  to  the  poor  sailors  of  the  fleet.  Being  inquisitive  as 
a  blue  jay,  he  investigated  the  rumors  and  gossip  of  the  court, 
as  well  as  the  small  affairs  of  his  neighbors,  and  wrote  them 
all  down  in  his  diary  with  evident  interest.  But  because  he 
chattered  most  freely,  and  told  his  little  book  a  great  many 
secrets  which  it  were  not  well  for  the  world  to  know,  he  con- 
cealed everything  in  shorthand,  —  and  here  again  he  was  like 
the  blue  jay,  which  carries  off  and  hides  every  bright  trinket 
it  discovers.  The  Diary  covers  the  years  from  1660  to  1669, 
and  gossips  about  everything,  from  his  own  position  and 
duties  at  the  office,  his  dress  and  kitchen  and  cook  and  rela- 
tives, to  the  great  political  intrigues  of  office  and  the  scandals 
of  high  society.  No  other  such  minute  picture  of  the  daily 
life  of  an  age  has  been  written.  Yet  for  a  century  and  a  half 
it  remained  entirely  unknown,  and  not  until  1825  was  Pepys's 
shorthand  deciphered  and  published.  Since  then  it  has  been 
widely  read,  and  is  still  one  of  the  most  interesting  examples 
of  diary  writing  that  we  possess.  Following  are  a  few  extracts,1 
covering  only  a  few  days  in  April,  1663,  from  which  one  may 
infer  the  minute  and  interesting  character  of  the  work  that 
this  clerk,  politician,  president  of  the  Royal  Society,  and  gen- 
eral busybody  wrote  to  please  himself : 

1  A  few  slight  changes  and  omissions  from  the  original  text,  as  given  in  Wheatley's 
edition  of  Pepys  (London,  1892,  9  vols.),  are  not  indicated  in  these  brief  quotations. 


254  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

April  ist.  I  went  to  the  Temple  to  my  Cozen  Roger  Pepys,  to  see 
and  talk  with  him  a  little  :  who  tells  me  that,  with  much  ado,  the  Par- 
liament do  agree  to  throw  down  Popery  ;  but  he  says  it  is  with  so  much 
spite  and  passion,  and  an  endeavor  of  bringing  all  Nonconformists  into 
the  same  condition,  that  he  is  afeard  matters  will  not  go  so  well  as  he 
could  wish.  .  .  .  To  my  office  all  the  afternoon ;  Lord !  how  Sir  J. 
Minnes,  like  a  mad  coxcomb,  did  swear  and  stamp,  swearing  that  Com- 
missioner Pett  hath  still  the  old  heart  against  the  King  that  ever  he 
had,  .  .  .  and  all  the  damnable  reproaches  in  the  world,  at  which  I  was 
ashamed,  but  said  little  ;  but,  upon  the  whole,  I  find  him  still  a  foole, 
led  by  the  nose  with  stories  told  by  Sir  W.  Batten,  whether  with  or 
without  reason.  So,  vexed  in  my  mind  to  see  things  ordered  so  unlike 
gentlemen,  or  men  of  reason,  I  went  home  and  to  bed. 

3d.  To  White  Hall  and  to  Chappell,  which  being  most  monstrous 
full,  1  could  not  go  into  my  pew,  but  sat  among  the  quire.  Dr.  Creeton, 
the  Scotchman,  preached  a  most  admirable,  good,  learned,  honest,  and 
most  severe  sermon,  yet  comicall.  .  .  .  He  railed  bitterly  ever  and  anon 
against  John  Calvin  and  his  brood,  the  Presbyterians,  and  against  the 
present  terme,  now  in  use,  of  "tender  consciences."  He  ripped  up 
Hugh  Peters  (calling  him  the  execrable  skellum),  his  preaching  and 
stirring  up  the  mayds  of  the  city  to  bring  in  their  bodkins  and  thimbles. 
Thence  going  out  of  White  Hall,  I  met  Captain  Grove,  who  did  give 
me  a  letter  directed  to  myself  from  himself.  I  discerned  money  to  be 
in  it,  and  took  it,  knowing,  as  I  found  it  to  be,  the  proceed  of  the  place 
I  have  got  him,  the  taking  up  of  vessels  for  Tangier.  But  I  did  not 
open  it  till  I  came  home  to  my  office,  and  there  I  broke  it  open,  not 
looking  into  it  till  all  the  money  was  out,  that  I  might  say  I  saw  no 
money  in  the  paper,  if  ever  I  should  be  questioned  about  it.  There  was 
a  piece  of  gold  and  4^  in  silver. 

4th.  To  my  office.  Home  to  dinner,  whither  by  and  by  comes  Roger 
Pepys,  etc.  Very  merry  at,  before,  and  after  dinner,  and  the  more  for 
that  my  dinner  was  great,  and  most  neatly  dressed  by  our  owne  only 
mayde.  WTe  had  a  fricasee  of  rabbits  and  chickens,  a  leg  of  mutton 
boiled,  three  carps  in  a  dish,  a  great  dish  of  a  side  of  lambe,  a  dish  of 
roasted  pigeons,  a  dish  of  four  lobsters,  three  tarts,  a  lamprey  pie  (a 
most  rare  pie),  a  dish  of  anchovies,  good  wine  of  several  sorts,  and  all 
things  mighty  noble  and  to  my  great  content. 

5th  (Lord's  day).  Up  and  spent  the  morning,  till  the  Barber  came, 
in  reading  in  my  chamber  part  of  Osborne's  Advice  to  his  Son,  which  I 
shall  not  never  enough  admire  for  sense  and  language,  and  being  by 
and  by  trimmed,  to  Church,  myself,  wife,  Ashwell,  etc.  Home  and, 
while  dinner  was  prepared,  to  my  office  to  read  over  my  vows  with  great 
affection  and  to  very  good  purpose.  Then  to  church  again,  where  a 
simple  bawling  young  Scot  preached. 


THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD  255 

igth  (Easter  day).  Up  and  this  day  put  on  my  close-kneed  coloured 
suit,  which,  with  new  stockings  of  the  colour,  with  belt  and  new  gilt- 
handled  sword,  is  very  handsome.  To  church  alone,  and  after  dinner 
to  church  again,  where  the  young  Scotchman  preaching,  I  slept  all  the 
while.  After  supper,  fell  in  discourse  of  dancing,  and  I  find  that  Ash- 
well  hath  a  very  fine  carriage,  which  makes  my  wife  almost  ashamed  of 
herself  to  see  herself  so  outdone,  but  to-morrow  she  begins  to  learn  to 
dance  for  a  month  or  two.  So  to  prayers  and  to  bed.  Will  being  gone, 
with  my  leave,  to  his  father's  this  day  for  a  day  or  two,  to  take  physique 
these  holydays. 

23d.  St.  George's  day  and  Coronacion,  the  King  and  Court  being  at 
Windsor,  at  the  installing  of  the  King  of  Denmarke  by  proxy  and  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth.  .  .  .  Spent  the  evening  with  my  father.  At  cards 
till  late,  and  being  at  supper,  my  boy  being  sent  for  some  mustard  to  a 
neat's  tongue,  the  rogue  staid  half  an  houre  in  the  streets,  it  seems  at  a 
bonfire,  at  which  I  was  very  angry,  and  resolve  to  beat  him  to-morrow. 

24th.  Up  betimes,  and  with  my  salt  eele  went  down  into  the  parler 
and  there  got  my  boy  and  did  beat  him  till  I  was  fain  to  take  breath 
two  or  three  times,  yet  for  all  I  am  afeard  it  will  make  the  boy  never 
the  better,  he  is  grown  so  hardened  in  his  tricks,  which  I  am  sorry  for, 
he  being  capable  of  making  a  brave  man,  and  is  a  boy  that  I  and  my 
wife  love  very  well. 

Summary  of  the  Restoration  Period.  The  chief  thing  to  note  in  England 
during  the  Restoration  is  the  tremendous  social  reaction  from  the  restraints 
of  Puritanism,  which  suggests  the  wide  swing  of  a  pendulum  from  one  extreme 
to  the  other.  For  a  generation  many  natural  pleasures  had  been  suppressed ; 
now  the  theaters  were  reopened,  bull  and  bear  baiting  revived,  and  sports, 
music,  dancing,  —  a  wild  delight  in  the  pleasures  and  vanities  of  this  world 
replaced  that  absorption  in  "  other-worldliness  "  which  characterized  the  extreme 
of  Puritanism. 

In  literature  the  change  is  no  less  marked.  From  the  Elizabethan  drama 
playwrights  turned  to  coarse,  evil  scenes,  which  presently  disgusted  the  people 
and  were  driven  from  the  stage.  From  romance,  writers  turned  to  realism ;  from 
Italian  influence  with  its  exuberance  of  imagination  they  turned  to  France,  and 
learned  to  repress  the  emotions,  to  follow  the  head  rather  than  the  heart,  and 
to  write  in  a  clear,  concise,  formal  style,  according  to  set  rules.  Poets  turned 
from  the  noble  blank  verse  of  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  from  the  variety  and 
melody  which  had  characterized  English  poetry  since  Chaucer's  day,  to  the 
monotonous  heroic  couplet  with  its  mechanical  perfection. 

The  greatest  writer  of  the  age  is  John  Dryden,  who  established  the  heroic 
couplet  as  the  prevailing  verse  form  in  English  poetry,  and  who  developed  a 
new  and  serviceable  prose  style  suited  to  the  practical  needs  of  the  age.  The 
popular  ridicule  of  Puritanism  in  burlesque  and  doggerel  is  best  exemplified 
in  Butler's  Hudibras.  The  realistic  tendency,  the  study  of  facts  and  of  men 


256  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

as  they  are,  is  shown  in  the  work  of  the  Royal  Society,  in  the  philosophy  of 
Hobbes  and  Locke,  and  in  the  diaries  of  Evelyn  and  Pepys,  with  their  minute 
pictures  of  social  life.  The  age  was  one  of  transition  from  the  exuberance  and 
vigor  of  Renaissance  literature  to  the  formality  and  polish  of  the  Augustan 
Age.  In  strong  contrast  with  the  preceding  ages,  comparatively  little  of 
Restoration  literature  is  familiar  to  modern  readers. 

Selections  for  Reading.  Dryden.  Alexander's  Feast,  Song  for  St.  Cecilia's 
Day,  selections  from  Absalom  and  Achitophel,  Religio  Laici,  Hind  and  Panther, 
Annus  Mirabilis,  —  in  Manly's  English  Poetry,  or  Ward's  English  Poets,  or 
Cassell's  National  Library ;  Palamon  and  Arcite  (Dryden's  version  of  Chaucer's 
tale),  in  Standard  English  Classics,  Riverside  Literature,  etc. ;  Dryden's  An 
Essay  of  Dramatic  Poesy,  in  Manly's,  or  Garnett's,  English  Prose. 

Butler.  Selections  from  Hudibras,  in  Manly's  English  Poetry,  Ward's 
English  Poets,  or  Morley's  Universal  Library. 

Pepys.  Selections  in  Manly's  English  Prose ;  the  Diary  in  Everyman's 
Library. 

Bibliography.  History.  Text-book,  Montgomery,  pp.  257-280;  Cheyney, 
pp.  466-514;  Green,  ch.  9;  Traill ;  Gardiner;  Macaulay. 

Special  Works.  Sydney's  Social  Life  in  England  from  the  Restoration  to 
the  Revolution  ;  Airy's  The  English  Restoration  and  Louis  XIV ;  Hale's  The 
Fall  of  the  Stuarts. 

Literature.  Garnett's  The  Age  of  Dryden ;  Dowden's  Puritan  and  Anglican. 

Dryden.  Poetical  Works,  with  Life,  edited  by  Christie ;  the  same,  edited 
by  Noyes,  in  Cambridge  Poets  Series;  Life  and  Works  (18  vols.),  by  Walter 
Scott,  revised  (1893)  by  Saintsbury;  Essays,  edited  by  Ker;  Life,  by  Saints- 
bury  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  Macaulay's  Essay ;  Lowell's  Essay,  in  Among 
My  Books  (or  in  Literary  Essays,  vol.  3) ;  Dowden's  Essay,  supra. 

Butler.  Hudibras,  in  Morley's  Universal  Library ;  Poetical  Works,  edited 
by  Johnson  ;  Dowden's  Essay,  supra. 

Pepys.  Diary  in  Everyman's  Library ;  the  same,  edited  by  Wheatley  (8  vols.); 
Wheatley's  Samuel  Pepys  and  the  World  He  Lived  In;  Stevenson's  Essay, 
in  Familiar  Studies  of  Men  and  Books. 

The  Restoration  Drama.  Plays  in  the  Mermaid  Series ;  Hazlitt's  Lectures 
on  the  English  Comic  Writers ;  Meredith's  Essay  on  Comedy  and  the  Comic 
Spirit ;  Lamb's  Essay  on  the  Artificial  Comedy ;  Thackeray's  Essay  on  Con- 
greve,  in  English  Humorists. 

Suggestive  Questions,  i.  What  marked  change  in  social  conditions  fol- 
lowed the  Restoration  ?  How  are  these  changes  reflected  in  literature  ? 

2.  What  are  the  chief  characteristics  of  Restoration  literature  ?    Why  is 
this  period  called  the  Age  of  French  influence  ?    What  new  tendencies  were 
introduced?    What  effect  did  the  Royal  Society  and  the  study  of  science 
have  upon  English  prose  ?    What  is  meant  by  realism  ?  by  formalism  ? 

3.  What  is  meant  by  the  heroic  couplet  ?    Explain  why  it  became  the  pre- 
vailing form  of  English  poetry.    What  are  its  good  qualities  and  its  defects  ? 


THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD 


257 


Name  some  well-known  poems  which  are  written  in  couplets.   How  do  Dryden's 
couplets  compare  with  Chaucer's  ?   Can  you  explain  the  difference  ? 

4.  Give  a  brief  account  of  Dryden's  life.    What  are  his  chief  poetical  works  ? 
For  what  new  object  did  he  use  poetry  ?    Is  satire  a  poetical  subject  ?   Why 
is  a  poetical  satire  more  effective  than  a  satire  in  prose  ?   What  was  Dryden's 
contribution  to  English  prose  ?    What  influence  did  he  exert  on  our  literature  ? 

5.  What  is  Butler's  Hudibras  ?   Explain  its  popularity.   Read  a  passage  and 
comment  upon  it,  first,  as  satire  ;  second,  as  a  description  of  the  Puritans.    Is 
Hudibras  poetry  ?    Why  ? 

6.  Name  the  philosophers  and  political  economists  of  this  period.   Can  you 
explain  why  Hobbes  should  call  his  work  Leviathan  ?    What  important  Amer- 
ican documents  show  the  influence  of  Locke  ? 

7.  Tell  briefly  the  story  of  Pepys  and  his  Diary.    What  light  does  the  latter 
throw  on  the  life  of  the  age  ?   Is  the  Diary  a  work  of  literature  ?  Why  ? 


CHRONOLOGY 

Last  Half  of  the  Seventeenth  Century 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


1649.    Execution  of  Charles  I 
1649-1660.  Commonwealth 
1660.  Restoration  of  Charles  II 


1665-1666.  Plague  and  Fire  of  London 

War  with  Holland 
1667.  Dutch  fleet  in  the  Thames 


1680.  Rise  of  Whigs  and  Tories 


1685.  James  II 

Monmouth's  Rebellion 


1688.  English  Revolution,  William  of 

Orange  called  to  throne 

1689.  Bill  of  Rights.    Toleration  Act 


1651.  Hobbes's  Leviathan 
1660-1669.  Pepys's  Diary 

1662.  Royal  Society  founded 

1663.  Butler's  Hudibras 


Dry- 


1667.   Milton's  Paradise  Lost, 
den's  Annus  Mirabilis 
1663-1694.  Dryden's  dramas 
1671.  Paradise  Regained 
1678.  Pilgrim's  Progress  published 

1 68 1,  Dryden's  Absalom  and  Achit- 
ophel 


1687.  Newton's  Principia  proves  the 
law  of  gravitation 


1690.  Locke's  Human  Understanding 
1698.  Jeremy  Collier  attacks  stage 
1700.  Death  of  Dryden 


CHAPTER  IX 

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  (1700-1800) 
I.  AUGUSTAN  OR  CLASSIC  AGE 

History  of  the  Period.  The  Revolution  of  1688,  which  banished 
the  last  of  the  Stuart  kings  and  called  William  of  Orange  to  the 
throne,  marks  the  end  of  the  long  struggle  for  political  freedom  in 
England.  Thereafter  the  Englishman  spent  his  tremendous  energy, 
which  his  forbears  had  largely  spent  in  fighting  for  freedom,  in  end- 
less political  discussions  and  in  efforts  to  improve  his  government. 
In  order  to  bring  about  reforms,  votes  were  now  necessary ;  and  to 
get  votes  the  people  of  England  must  be  approached  with  ideas, 
facts,  arguments,  information.  So  the  newspaper  was  born,1  and  lit- 
erature in  its  widest  sense,  including  the  book,  the  newspaper,  and 
the  magazine,  became  the  chief  instrument  of  a.  nation's  progress. 

The  first  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  is  remarkable  for  the 
rapid  social  development  in  England.  Hitherto  men  had  been  more 
Social  °r  less  governed  by  the  narrow,  isolated  standards  of  the 

Development  Middle  Ages,  and  when  they  differed  they  fell  speedily 
to  blows.  Now  for  the  first  time  they  set  themselves  to  the  task  of 
learning  the  art  of  living  together,  while  still  holding  different  opin- 
ions. In  a  single  generation  nearly  two  thousand  public  coffeehouses, 
each  a  center  of  sociability,  sprang  up  in  London  alone,  and  the 
number  of  private  clubs  is  quite  as  astonishing.2  This  new  social  life 
had  a  marked  effect  in  polishing  men's  words  and  manners.  The 
typical  Londoner  of  Queen  Anne's  day  was  still  rude,  and  a  little 
vulgar  in  his  tastes  ;  the  city  was  still  very  filthy,  the  streets  unlighted 
and  infested  at  night  by  bands  of  rowdies  and  "Mohawks";  but 
outwardly  men  sought  to  refine  their  manners  according  to  pre- 
vailing standards;  and  to  be  elegant,  to  have  "good  form,"  was 
a  man's  first  duty,  whether  he  entered  society  or  wrote  literature. 
One  can  hardly  read  a  book  or  poem  of  the  age  without  feeling  this 

1  The  first  daily  newspaper,  The  Daily  Courant,  appeared  in  London  in  1702. 

2  See  Lecky,  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century. 

258 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  259 

superficial  elegance.  Government  still  had  its  opposing  Tory  and  Whig 
parties,  and  the  Church  was  divided  into  Catholics,  Anglicans,  and 
Dissenters;  but  the  growing  social  life  offset  many  antagonisms, 
producing  at  least  the  outward  impression  of  peace  and  unity. 
Nearly  every  writer  of  the  age  busied  himself  with  religion  as  well 
as  with  party  politics,  the  scientist  Newton  as  sincerely  as  the  church- 
man Barrow,  the  philosophical  Locke  no  less  earnestly  than  the 
evangelical  Wesley  ;  but  nearly  all  tempered  their  zeal  with  modera- 
tion, and  argued  from  reason  and  Scripture,  or  used  delicate  satire 
upon  their  opponents,  instead  of  denouncing  them  as  followers  of 
Satan.  There  were  exceptions,  of  course ;  but  the  general  tendency 
of  the  age  was  toward  toleration.  Man  had  found  himself  in  the 
long  struggle  for  personal  liberty ;  now  he  turned  to  the  task  of 
discovering  his  neighbor,  of  finding  in  Whig  and  Tory,  in  Catholic 
and  Protestant,  in  Anglican  and  Dissenter,  the  same  general  human 
characteristics  that  he  found  in  himself.  This  good  work  was  helped, 
moreover,  by  the  spread  of  education  and  by  the  growth  of  the 
national  spirit,  following  the  victories  of  Marlborough  on  the  Conti- 
nent. In  the  midst  of  heated  argument  it  needed  only  a  word  — 
Gibraltar,  Blenheim,  Ramillies,  Malplaquet  —  or  a  poem  of  victory 
written  in  a  garret 1  to  tell  a  patriotic  people  that  under  their  many 
differences  they  were  all  alike  Englishmen. 

In  the  latter  half  of  the  century  the  political  and  social  progress 
is  almost  bewildering.  The  modern  form  of  cabinet  government  re- 
sponsible to  Parliament  and  the  people  had  been  established  under 
George  I ;  and  in  1757  the  cynical  and  corrupt  practices  of  Walpole, 
premier  of  the  first  Tory  cabinet,  were  replaced  by  the  more  en- 
lightened policies  of  Pitt.  Schools  were  established ;  clubs  and  coffee- 
houses increased ;  books  and  magazines  multiplied  until  the  press 
was  the  greatest  visible  power  in  England  ;  the  modern  great  dailies, 
the  Chronicle,  Post,  and  Times,  began  their  career  of  public  educa- 
tion. Religiously,  all  the  churches  of  England  felt  the  quickening 
power  of  that  tremendous  spiritual  revival  known  as  Methodism, 
under  the  preaching  of  Wesley  and  Whitefield.  Outside  her  own 
borders  three  great  men  —  Clive  in  India,  Wolfe  on  the  Plains  of 
Abraham,  Cook  in  Australia  and  the  islands  of  the  Pacific  —  were 
unfurling  the  banner  of  St.  George  over  the  untold  wealth  of  new 
lands,  and  spreading  the  world-wide  empire  of  the  Anglo-Saxons. 

1  Addison's  "  Campaign"  (1704),  written  to  celebrate  the  battle  of  Blenheim. 


260  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Literary  Characteristics.  In  every  preceding  age  we  have 
noted  especially  the  poetical  works,  which  constitute,  accord- 
An  Age  of  mg  to  Matthew  Arnold,  the  glory  of  English  liter- 
Prose  ature.  Now  for  the  first  time  we  must  chronicle 
the  triumph  of  English  prose.  A  multitude  of  practical  in- 
terests arising  from  the  new  social  and  political  conditions 
demanded  expression,  not  simply  in  books,  but  more  especially 
in  pamphlets,  magazines,  and  newspapers.  Poetry  was  inade- 
quate for  such  a  task ;  hence  the  development  of  prose,  of 
the  "unfettered  word,"  as  Dante  calls  it,  —  a  development 
which  astonishes  us  by  its  rapidity  and  excellence.  The 
graceful  elegance  of  Addison's  essays,  the  terse  vigor  of 
Swift's  satires,  the  artistic  finish  of  Fielding's  novels,  the 
sonorous  eloquence  of  Gibbon's  history  and  of  Burke' s  ora- 
tions, —  these  have  no  parallel  in  the  poetry  of  the  age. 
Indeed,  poetry  itself  became  prosaic  in  this  respect,  that  it 
was  used  not  for  creative  works  of  imagination,  but  for  essays, 
for  satire,  for  criticism,  —  for  exactly  the  same  practical  ends 
as  was  prose.  The  poetry  of  the  first  half  of  the  century,  as 
typified  in  the  work  of  Pope,  is  polished  and  witty  enough, 
but  artificial ;  it  lacks  fire,  fine  feeling,  enthusiasm,  the  glow 
of  the  Elizabethan  Age  and  the  moral  earnestness  of  Puritan- 
ism. In  a  word,  it  interests  us  as  a  study  of  life,  rather  than 
delights  or  inspires  us  by  its  appeal  to  the  imagination.  The 
variety  and  excellence  of  prose  works,  and  the  development 
of  a  serviceable  prose  style,  which  had  been  begun  by  Dry- 
den,  until  it  served  to  express  clearly  every  human  interest 
and  emotion,  —  these  are  the  chief  literary  glories  of  the 
eighteenth  century. 

In  the  literature  of  the  preceding  age  we  noted  two  marked 

tendencies,  —  the  tendency  to  realism  in  subject-matter,  and 

the  tendency  to  polish  and  refinement  of  expres- 

Set  tire 

sion.  Both  these  tendencies  were  continued  in  the 
Augustan  Age,  and  are  seen  clearly  in  the  poetry  of  Pope, 
who  brought  the  couplet  to  perfection,  and  in  the  prose  of 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  261 

Addison.  A  third  tendency  is  shown  in  the  prevalence  of 
satire,  resulting  from  the  unfortunate  union  of  politics  with 
literature.  We  have  already  noted  the  power  of  the  press  in 
this  age,  and  the  perpetual  strife  of  political  parties.  Nearly 
every  writer  of  the  first  half  of  the  century  was  used  and  re- 
warded by  Whigs  or  Tories  for  satirizing  their  enemies  and  for 
advancing  their  special  political  interests.  Pope  was  a  marked 
exception,  but  he  nevertheless  followed  the  prose  writers  in 
using  satire  too  largely  in  his  poetry.  Now  satire  —  that  is,  a 
literary  work  which  searches  out  the  faults  of  men  or  institu- 
tions in  order  to  hold  them  up  to  ridicule  —  is  at  best  a  de- 
structive kind  of  criticism.  A  satirist  is  like  a  laborer  who 
clears  away  the  ruins  and  rubbish  of  an  old  house  before  the 
architect  and  builders  begin  on  a  new  and  beautiful  structure. 
The  work  may  sometimes  be  necessary,  but  it  rarely  arouses 
our  enthusiasm.  While  the  satires  of  Pope,  Swift,  and  Addi- 
son are  doubtless  the  best  in  our  language,  we  hardly  place 
them  with  our  great  literature,  which  is  always  constructive 
in  spirit ;  and  we  have  the  feeling  that  all  these  men  were 
capable  of  better  things  than  they  ever  wrote. 

The  Classic  Age.  The  period  we  are  studying  is  known  to 
us  by  various  names.  It  is  often  called  the  Age  of  Queen 
Anne  ;  but,  unlike  Elizabeth,  this  "  meekly  stupid "  queen 
had  practically  no  influence  upon  our  literature.  The  name 
Classic  Age  is  more  often  heard ;  but  in  using  it  we  should 
remember  clearly  these  three  different  ways  in  which  the 
word  "  classic  "  is  applied  to  literature  :  (i)  the  term  "  classic  " 
refers,  in  general,  to  writers  of  the  highest  rank  in  any  nation. 
As  used  in  our  literature,  it  was  first  applied  to  the  works  of 
the  great  Greek  and  Roman  writers,  like  Homer  and  Virgil ; 
and  any  English  book  which  followed  the  simple  and  noble 
method  of  these  writers  was  said  to  have  a  classic  style. 
Later  the  term  was  enlarged  to  cover  the  great  literary  works 
of  other  ancient  nations  ;  so  that  the  Bible  and  the  Avestas, 
as  well  as  the  Iliad  and  the  ^Eneid,  are  called  classics. 


262  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

(2)  Every  national  literature  has  at  least  one  period  in  which 
an  unusual  number  of  great  writers  are  producing  books,  and 
this  is  called  the  classic  period  of  a  nation's  literature.  Thus 
the  reign  of  Augustus  is  the  classic  or  golden  age  of  Rome ; 
the  generation  of  Dante  is  the  classic  age  of  Italian  litera- 
ture ;  the  age  of  Louis  XIV  is  the  French  classic  age ;  and 
the  age  of  Queen  Anne  is  often  called  the  classic  age  of 
England.  (3)  The  word  "  classic  "  acquired  an  entirely  different 
meaning  in  the  period  we  are  studying ;  and  we  shall  better 
understand  this  by  reference  to  the  preceding  ages.  The 
Elizabethan  writers  were  led  by  patriotism,  by  enthusiasm, 
and,  in  general,  by  romantic  emotions.  They  wrote  in  a  nat- 
ural style,  without  regard  to  rules  ;  and  though  they  exagger- 
ated and  used  too  many  words,  their  works  are  delightful 
because  of  their  vigor  and  freshness  and  fine  feeling.  In  the 
following  age  patriotism  had  largely  disappeared  from  politics 
and  enthusiasm  from  literature.  Poets  no  longer  wrote  natu- 
rally, but  artificially,  with  strange  and  fantastic  verse  forms  to 
give  effect,  since  fine  feeling  was  wanting.  And  this  is  the 
general  character  of  the  poetry  of  the  Puritan  Age.1  Gradu- 
ally our  writers  rebelled  against  the  exaggerations  of  both  the 
natural  and  the  fantastic  style.  They  demanded  that  poetry 
should  follow  exact  rules  ;  and  in  this  they  were  influenced 
by  French  writers,  especially  by  Boileau  and  Rapin,  who  in- 
sisted on  precise  methods  of  writing  poetry,  and  who  professed 
to  have  discovered  their  rules  in  the  classics  of  Horace  and 
Aristotle.  In  our  study  of  the  Elizabethan  drama  we  noted 
the  good  influence  of  the  classic  movement  in  insisting  upon 
that  beauty  of  form  and  definiteness  of  expression  which 
characterize  the  dramas  of  Greece  and  Rome ;  and  in  the 
work  of  Dryden  and  his  followers  we  see  a  revival  of  classi- 
cism in  the  effort  to  make  English  literature  conform  to  rules 

1  Great  writers  in  every  age,  men  like  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  make  their  own  style. 
They  are  therefore  not  included  in  this  summary.  Among  the  minor  writers  also  there 
are  exceptions  to  the  rule ;  and  fine  feeling  is  often  manifest  in  the  poetry  of  Donne, 
Herbert,  Vaughan,  and  Herrick. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  263 

established  by  the  great  writers  of  other  nations.  At  first  the 
results  were  excellent,  especially  in  prose ;  but  as  the  crea- 
tive vigor  of  the  Elizabethans  was  lacking  in  this  age,  writing 
by  rule  soon  developed  a  kind  of  elegant  formalism,  which 
suggests  the  elaborate  social  code  of  the  time.  Just  as  a 
gentleman  might  not  act  naturally,  but  must  follow  exact 
rules  in  doffing  his  hat,  or  addressing  a  lady,  or  entering  a 
room,  or  wearing  a  wig,  or  offering  his  snuffbox  to  a  friend, 
so  our  writers  lost  individuality  and  became  formal  and  arti- 
ficial. The  general  tendency  of  literature  was  to  look  at  life 
critically,  to  emphasize  intellect  rather  than  imagination,  the 
form  rather  than  the  content  of  a  sentence.  Writers  strove 
to  repress  all  emotion  and  enthusiasm,  and  to  use  only  precise 
and  elegant  methods  of  expression.  This  is  what  is  often 
meant  by  the  "  classicism  "  of  the  ages  of  Pope  and  Johnson. 
It  refers  to  the  critical,  intellectual  spirit  of  many  writers,  to 
the  fine  polish  of  their  heroic  couplets  or  the  elegance  of 
their  prose,  and  not  to  any  resemblance  which  their  work 
bears  to  true  classic  literature.  In  a  word,  the  classic  move- 
ment had  become  pseudo-classic,  i.e.  a  false  or  sham  classi- 
cism ;  and  the  latter  term  is  now  often  used  to  designate  a 
considerable  part  of  eighteenth-century  literature.1  To  avoid 
this  critical  difficulty  we  have  adopted  the  term  Augustan 
Age,  a  name  chosen  by  the  writers  themselves,  who  saw  in 
Pope,  Addison,  Swift,  Johnson,  and  Burke  the  modern  par- 
allels to  Horace,  Virgil,  Cicero,  and  all  that  brilliant  company 
who  made  Roman  literature  famous  in  the  days  of  Augustus. 

1  We  have  endeavored  here  simply  to  show  the  meaning  of  terms  in  general  use  in 
our  literature ;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  is  impossible  to  classify  or  to  give  a 
descriptive  name  to  the  writers  of  any  period  or  century.  While  "  classic  "  or  "  pseudo- 
classic  "  may  apply  to  a  part  of  eighteenth-century  literature,  every  age  has  both  its  ro- 
mantic and  its  classic  movements.  In  this  period  the  revolt  against  classicism  is  shown 
in  the  revival  of  romantic  poetry  under  Gray,  Collins,  Burns,  and  Thomson,  and  in  the 
beginning  of  the  English  novel  under  Defoe,  Richardson,  and  Fielding.  These  poets  and 
novelists,  who  have  little  or  no  connection  with  classicism,  belong  chronologically  to  the 
period  we  are  studying.  They  are  reserved  for  special  treatment  in  the  sections 
following. 


264  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

ALEXANDER  POPE  (1688-1744) 

Pope  is  in  many  respects  a  unique  figure.  In  the  first 
place,  he  was  for  a  generation  "the  poet"  of  a  great  nation. 
To  be  sure,  poetry  was  limited  in  the  early  eighteenth  cen- 
tury ;  there  were  few  lyrics,  little  or  no  love  poetry,  no  epics, 
no  dramas  or  songs  of  nature  worth  considering ;  but  in  the 
narrow  field  of  satiric  and  didactic  verse  Pope  was  the  undis- 
puted master.  His  influence  completely  dominated  the  poetry 
of  his  age,  and  many  foreign  writers,  as  well  as  the  majority 
of  English  poets,  looked  to  him  as  their  model.  Second,  he 
was  a  remarkably  clear  and  adequate  reflection  of  the  spirit 
of  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  There  is  hardly  an  ideal,  a  be- 
lief, a  doubt,  a  fashion,  a  whim  of  Queen  Anne's  time,  that  is 
not  neatly  expressed  in  his  poetry.  Third,  he  was  the  only 
important  writer  of  that  age  who  gave  his  whole  life  to  let- 
ters. Swift  was  a  clergyman  and  politician ;  Addison  was 
secretary  of  state ;  other  writers  depended  on  patrons  or 
politics  or  pensions  for  fame  and  a  livelihood ;  but  Pope  was 
independent,  and  had  no  profession  but  literature.  And 
fourth,  by  the  sheer  force  of  his  ambition  he  won  his  place, 
and  held  it,  in  spite  of  religious  prejudice,  and  in  the  face  of 
physical  and  temperamental  obstacles  that  would  have  dis- 
couraged a  stronger  man.  For  Pope  was  deformed  and  sickly, 
dwarfish  in  soul  and  body.  He  knew  little  of  the  world  of 
nature  or  of  the  world  of  the  human  heart.  He  was  lacking, 
apparently,  in  noble  feeling,  and  instinctively  chose  a  lie  when 
the  truth  had  manifestly  more  advantages.  Yet  this  jealous, 
peevish,  waspish  little  man  became  the  most  famous  poet  of 
his  age  and  the  acknowledged  leader  of  English  literature. 
We  record  the  fact  with  wonder  and  admiration ;  but  we  do 
not  attempt  to  explain  it. 

Life.  Pope  was  born  in  London  in  1688,  the  year  of  the  Revo- 
lution. His  parents  were  both  Catholics,  who  presently  removed 
from  London  and  settled  in  Binfield,  near  Windsor,  where  the  poet's 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  265 

childhood  was  passed.  Partly  because  of  an  unfortunate  prejudice 
against  Catholics  in  the  public  schools,  partly  because  of  his  own 
weakness  and  deformity,  Pope  received  very  little  school  education, 
but  browsed  for  himself  among  English  books  and  picked  up  a  smat- 
tering of  the  classics.  Very  early  he  began  to  write  poetry,  and  records 
the  fact  with  his  usual  vanity  : 

As  yet  a  child,  nor  yet  a  fool  to  fame, 

I  lisped  in  numbers,  for  the  numbers  came. 

Being  debarred  by  his  religion  from  many  desirable  employments, 
he  resolved  to  make  literature  his  life  work;  and  in  this  he  re- 
sembled Dryden,  who,  he  tells  us,  was  his  only  master,  though 
much  of  his  work  seems  to  depend  on  Boileau,  the  French  poet  and 
critic.1  When  only  sixteen  years  old  he  had  written  his  "  Pastorals  "; 
a  few  years  later  appeared  his  "  Essay  on  Criticism,"  which  made 
him  famous.  With  the  publication  of  the  Rape  of  the  Lock,  in  1712, 
Pope's  name  was  known  and  honored  all  over  England,  and  this 
dwarf  of  twenty-four  years,  by  the  sheer  force  of  his  own  ambition, 
had  jumped  to  the  foremost  place  in  English  letters.  It  was  soon 
after  this  that  Voltaire  called  him  "  the  best  poet  of  England  and, 
at  present,  of  all  the  world," — which  is  about  as  near  the  truth  as 
Voltaire  generally  gets  in  his  numerous  universal  judgments.  For 
the  next  twelve  years  Pope  was  busy  with  poetry,  especially  with  his 
translations  of  Homer;  and  his  work  was  so  successful  financially 
that  he  bought  a  villa  at  Twickenham,  on  the  Thames,  and  remained 
happily  independent  of  wealthy  patrons  for  a  livelihood. 

Led  by  his  success,  Pope  returned  to  London  and  for  a  time  en- 
deavored to  live  the  gay  and  dissolute  life  which  was  supposed  to  be 
suitable  for  a  literary  genius ;  but  he  was  utterly  unfitted  for  it,  men- 
tally and  physically,  and  soon  retired  to  Twickenham.  There  he 
gave  himself  up  to  poetry,  manufactured  a  little  garden  more  arti- 
ficial than  his  verses,  and  cultivated  his  friendship  with  Martha 
Blount,  with  whom  for  many  years  he  spent  a  good  part  of  each  day, 
and  who  remained  faithful  to  him  to  the  end  of  his  life.  At  Twicken- 
ham he  wrote  his  Moral  Epistles  (poetical  satires  modeled  after 

1  Pope's  satires,  for  instance,  are  strongly  suggested  in  Boileau ;  his  Rape  of  the 
Lock  is  much  like  the  mock-heroic  Le  Lutrin ;  and  the  "Essay  on  Criticism,"  which 
made  him  famous,  is  an  English  edition  and  improvement  of  L'Art  Poetique.  The  last 
was,  in  turn,  a  combination  of  the  Ars  Poetica  of  Horace  and  of  many  well-known  rules 
of  the  classicists. 


266  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Horace)  and  revenged  himself  upon  all  his  critics  in  the  bitter  abuse 
of  the  Dunciad.  He  died  in  1744  and  was  buried  at  Twickenham, 
his  religion  preventing  him  from  the  honor,  which  was  certainly  his 
due,  of  a  resting  place  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

Works  of  Pope.  For  convenience  we  may  separate  Pope's 
work  into  three  groups,  corresponding  to  the  early,  middle, 
and  later  period  of  his  life.  In  the  first  he  wrote  his  "  Pas- 
torals," "Windsor  Forest,"  "Messiah,"  "  Essay  on  Criticism," 
"Eloise  to  Abelard,"  and  the  Rape  of  the  Lock ;  in  the  sec- 
ond, his  translations  of  Homer ;  in  the  third  the  Dunciad 
and  the  Epistles,  the  latter  containing  the  famous  "Essay 
on  Man"  and  the  "Epistle  to  Dr.  Arbuthnot,"  which  is  in 
truth  his  "Apologia,"  and  in  which  alone  we  see  Pope's  life 
from  his  own  view  point. 

The  "  Essay  on  Criticism  "  sums  up  the  art  of  poetry  as 
taught  first  by  Horace,  then  by  Boileau  and  the  eighteenth- 
Essay  on  century  classicists.  Though  written  in  heroic  coup- 
Criticism  iets,  we  hardly  consider  this  as  a  poem  but  rather 
as  a  storehouse  of  critical  maxims.  "  For  fools  rush  in  where 
angels  fear  to  tread";  "To  err  is  human,  to  forgive  divine  "  ; 
"A  little  learning  is  a  dangerous  thing,"  —  these  lines,  and 
many  more  like  them  from  the  same  source,  have  found  their 
way  into  our  common  speech,  and  are  used,  without  thinking 
of  the  author,  whenever  we  need  an  apt  quotation. 

The  Rape  of  the  Lock  is  a  masterpiece  of  its  kind,  and  comes 
nearer  to  being  a  "creation"  than  anything  else  that  Pope 
Rape  of  the  nas  written.  The  occasion  of  the  famous  poem  was 
Lock  trivial  enough.  A  fop  at  the  court  of  Queen  Anne, 

one  Lord  Petre,  snipped  a  lock  of  hair  from  the  abundant 
curls  of  a  pretty  maid  of  honor  named  Arabella  Fermor.  The 
young  lady  resented  it,  and  the  two  families  were  plunged 
into  a  quarrel  which  was  the  talk  of  London.  Pope,  being 
appealed  to,  seized  the  occasion  to  construct,  not  a  ballad,  as 
the  Cavaliers  would  have  done,  nor  an  epigram,  as  French 
poets  love  to  do,  but  a  long  poem  in  which  all  the  mannerisms 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  267 

of  society  are  pictured  in  minutest  detail  and  satirized  with 
the  most  delicate  wit.  The  first  edition,  consisting  of  two 
cantos,  was  published  in  1712  ;  and  it  is  amazing  now  to  read 
of  the  trivial  character  of  London  court  life  at  the  time  when 
English  soldiers  were  battling  for  a  great  continent  in  the 
French  and  Indian  wars.  Its  instant  success  caused  Pope  to 
lengthen  the  poem  by  three  more  cantos ;  and  in  order  to 
make  a  more  perfect  burlesque  of  an  epic  poem,  he  introduces 
gnomes,  sprites,  sylphs,  and  salamanders,1  instead  of  the  gods 
of  the  great  epics,  with  which  his  readers  were  familiar.  The 
poem  is  modeled  after  two  foreign  satires :  Boileau's  Le  Lu- 
trin  (reading  desk),  a  satire  on  the  French  clergy,  who  raised 
a  huge  quarrel  over  the  location  of  a  lectern  ;  and  La  Secchia 
Rapita  (stolen  bucket),  a  famous  Italian  satire  on  the  petty 
causes  of  the  endless  Italian  wars.  Pope,  however,  went  far 
ahead  of  his  masters  in  style  and  in  delicacy  of  handling  a 
mock-heroic  theme,  and  during  his  lifetime  the  Rape  of  the 
Lock  was  considered  as  the  greatest  poem  of  its  kind  in  all 
literature.  The  poem  is  still  well  worth  reading;  for  as  an 
expression  of  the  artificial  life  of  the  age  —  of  its  cards,  par- 
ties, toilettes,  lapdogs,  tea-drinking,  snuff-taking,  and  idle 
vanities  —  it  is  as  perfect  in  its  way  as  Tamburlaine,  which 
reflects  the  boundless  ambition  of  the  Elizabethans. 

The  fame  of  Pope's  Iliad,  which  was  financially  the  most 
successful  of  his  books,  was  due  to  the  fact  that  he  interpreted 
Pope's  Trans-  Homer  in  the  elegant,  artificial  language  of  his  own 
lations  age>  Not  only  do  his  words  follow  literary  fashions, 

but  even  the  Homeric  characters  lose  their  strength  and  be- 
come fashionable  men  of  the  court.  So  the  criticism  of  the 
scholar  Bentley  was  most  appropriate  when  he  said,  "It  is  a 
pretty  poem,  Mr.  Pope,  but  you  must  not  call  it  Homer." 
Popev  translated  the  entire  Iliad  and  half  of  the  Odyssey  ;  and 

1  These  are  the  four  kinds  of  spirits  inhabiting  the  four  elements,  according  to  the 
Rosicrucians,  —  a  fantastic  sect  of  spiritualists  of  that  age.  In  the  dedication  of  the 
poem  Pope  says  he  took  the  idea  from  a  French  book  called  LeComte  de  Gabalis. 


268  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  latter  work  was  finished  by  two  Cambridge  scholars, 
Elijah  Fenton  and  William  Broome,  who  imitated  the  me- 
chanical couplets  so  perfectly  that  it  is  difficult  to  distinguish 
their  work  from  that  of  the  greatest  poet  of  the  age.  A  single 
selection  is  given  to  show  how,  in  the  nobler  passages,  even 
Pope  may  faintly  suggest  the  elemental  grandeur  of  Homer : 

The  troops  exulting  sat  in  order  round, 
And  beaming  fires  illumined  all  the  ground. 
As  when  the  moon,  refulgent  lamp  of  night, 
O'er  Heaven's  clear  azure  spreads  her  sacred  light, 
When  not  a  breath  disturbs  the  deep  serene, 
And  not  a  cloud  o'ercasts  the  solemn  scene  ? 
Around  her  throne  the  vivid  planets  roll, 
And  stars  unnumbered  gild  the  glowing  pole, 
O'er  the  dark  trees  a  yellower  verdure  shed, 
And  tip  with  silver  every  mountain's  head. 

The  "  Essay  "  is  the  best  known  and  the  most  quoted  of 
all  Pope's  works.  Except  in  form  it  is  not  poetry,  and  when 
Essay  on  one  considers  it  as  an  essay  and  reduces  it  to  plain 
Man  prose,  it  is  found  to  consist  of  numerous  literary 

ornaments  without  any  very  solid  structure  of  thought  to  rest 
upon.  The  purpose  of  the  essay  is,  in  Pope's  words,  to  "vin- 
dicate the  ways  of  God  to  Man  " ;  and  as  there  are  no  unan- 
swered problems  in  Pope's  philosophy,  the  vindication  is  per- 
fectly accomplished  in  four  poetical  epistles,  concerning  man's 
relations  to  the  universe,  to  himself,  to  society,  and  to  happiness. 
The  final  result  is  summed  up  in  a  few  well-known  lines : 

All  nature  is  but  art,  unknown  to  thee  ; 

All  chance,  direction  which  thou  canst  not  see ; 

All  discord,  harmony  not  understood ; 

All  partial  evil,  universal  good : 

And,  spite  of  pride,  in  erring  reason's  spite, 

One  truth  is  clear,  whatever  is,  is  right. 

Like  the  "  Essay  on  Criticism,"  the  poem  abounds  in  quot- 
able lines,  such  as  the  following,  which  make  the  entire  work 
well  worth  reading : 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  269 

Hope  springs  eternal  in  the  human  breast : 
Man  never  is,  but  always  to  be  blest. 

Know  then  thyself,  presume  not  God  to  scan ; 
The  proper  study  of  Mankind  is  Man. 

The  same  ambition  can  destroy  or  save, 
And  makes  a  patriot  as  it  makes  a  knave. 

Honor  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise; 
Act  well  your  part,  there  all  the  honor  lies. 

Vice  is  a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien, 
As,  to  be  hated,  needs  but  to  be  seen ; 
Yet  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  her  face, 
We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace. 

Behold  the  child,  by  Nature's  kindly  law, 
Pleased  with  a  rattle,  tickled  with  a  straw : 
Some  livelier  plaything  gives  his  youth  delight, 
A  little  louder,  but  as  empty  quite : 
Scarfs,  garters,  gold,  amuse  his  riper  stage, 
And  beads  and  prayer  books  are  the  toys  of  age  : 
Pleased  with  this  bauble  still,  as  that  before  ; 
Till  tired  he  sleeps,  and  Life's  poor  play  is  o'er.1 

The  Dunciad  (i.e.  the  "  Iliad  of  the  Dunces  ")  began  origi- 
nally as  a  controversy  concerning  Shakespeare,  but  turned 
Misceiiane-  out  to  be  a  coarse  and  revengeful  satire  upon  all 
ous  Works  the  literary  men  of  the  age  who  had  aroused  Pope's 
anger  by  their  criticism  or  lack  of  appreciation  of  his  genius. 
Though  brilliantly  written  and  immensely  popular  at  one  time, 
its  present  effect  on  the  reader  is  to  arouse  a  sense  of  pity 
that  a  man  of  such  acknowledged  power  and  position  should 
abuse  both  by  devoting  his  talents  to  personal  spite  and 
petty  quarrels.  Among  the  rest  of  his  numerous  works  the 
reader  will  find  Pope's  estimate  of  himself  best  set  forth  in 
his  "  Epistle  to  Dr.  Arbuthnot,"  and  it  will  be  well  to  close 
our  study  of  this  strange  mixture  of  vanity  and  greatness  with 
"The  Universal  Prayer,"  which  shows  at  least  that  Pope  had 
considered,  and  judged  himself,  and  that  all  further  judgment 
is  consequently  superfluous. 

l  Compare  this  with  Shakespeare's  "  All  the  world 's  a  stage,"  in  As  You  Like  It,  II,  7. 


2/O 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


JONATHAN  SWIFT  (1667-1745) 

In  each  of  Marlowe's  tragedies  we  have  the  picture  of  a 
man  dominated  by  a  single  passion,  the  lust  of  power  for  its 
own  sake.  In  each  we  see  that  a  powerful  man  without  self- 
control  is  like  a  dangerous  instrument  in  the  hands  of  a  child  ; 
and  the  tragedy  ends  in  the  destruction  of  the  man  by  the 
ungoverned  power  which  he  possesses.  The  life  of  Swift  is 
just  such  a  living  tragedy.  He  had  the  power  of  gaining 

wealth,  like  the  hero  of 
the  Jew  of  Malta ;  yet 
he  used  it  scornfully,  and 
in  sad  irony  left  what  re- 
mained to  him  of  a  large 
property  to  found  a  hos- 
pital for  lunatics.  By  hard 
work  he  won  enormous 
literary  power,  and  used 
it  to  satirize  our  common 
humanity.  He  wrested 
political  power  from  the 
hands  of  the  Tories,  and 
used  it  to  insult  the  very 
men  who  had  helped  him, 
and  who  held  his  fate  in 
their  hands.  By  his  domi- 
nant personality  he  exercised  a  curious  power  over  women, 
and  used  it  brutally  to  make  them  feel  their  inferiority.  Being 
loved  supremely  by  two  good  women,  he  brought  sorrow  and 
death  to  both,  and  endless  misery  to  himself.  So  his  power 
brought  always  tragedy  in  its  wake.  It  is  only  when  we  re- 
member his  life  of  struggle  and  disappointment  and  bitter- 
ness that  we  can  appreciate  the  personal  quality  in  his  satire, 
and  perhaps  find  some  sympathy  for  this  greatest  genius  of 
all  the  Augustan  writers. 


JONATHAN  SWIFT 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  2/1 

Life.  Swift  was  born  in  Dublin,  of  English  parents,  in  1667.  His 
father  died  before  he  was  born ;  his  mother  was  poor,  and  Swift, 
though  proud  as  Lucifer,  was  compelled  to  accept  aid  from  relatives, 
who  gave  it  grudgingly.  At  the  Kilkenny  school,  and  especially  at 
Dublin  University,  he  detested  the  curriculum,  reading  only  what 
appealed  to  his  own  nature ;  but,  since  a  degree  was  necessary  to 
his  success,  he  was  compelled  to  accept  it  as  a  favor  from  the 
examiners,  whom  he  despised  in  his  heart.  After  graduation  the 
only  position  open  to  him  was  with  a  distant  relative,  Sir  William 
Temple,  who  gave  him  the  position  of  private  secretary  largely  on 
account  of  the  unwelcome  relationship. 

Temple  was  a  statesman  and  an  excellent  diplomatist;  but  he 
thought  himself  to  be  a  great  writer  as  well,  and  he  entered  into  a 
literary  controversy  concerning  the  relative  merits  of  the  classics  and 
modern  literature.  Swift's  first  notable  work,  The  Battle  of  the  Books , 
written  at  this  time  but  not  published,  is  a  keen  satire  upon  both 
parties  in  the  controversy.  The  first  touch  of  bitterness  shows  itself 
here ;  for  Swift  was  in  a  galling  position  for  a  man  of  his  pride, 
knowing  his  intellectual  superiority  to  the  man  who  employed  him, 
and  yet  being  looked  upon  as  a  servant  and  eating  at  the  servants' 
table.  Thus  he  spent  ten  of  the  best  years  of  his  life  in  the  pretty 
Moor  Park,  Surrey,  growing  more  bitter  each  year  and  steadily  curs- 
ing his  fate.  Nevertheless  he  read  and  studied  widely,  and,  after 
his  position  with  Temple  grew  unbearable,  quarreled  with  his  patron, 
took  orders,  and  entered  the  Church  of  England.  Some  years  later 
we  find  him  settled  in  the  little  church  of  Laracor,  Ireland, — a 
country  which  he  disliked  intensely,  but  whither  he  went  because  no 
other  "  living  "  was  open  to  him. 

In  Ireland,  faithful  to  his  church  duties,  Swift  labored  to  better 
the  condition  of  the  unhappy  people  around  him.  Never  before  had 
the  poor  of  his  parishes  been  so  well  cared  for ;  but  Swift  chafed 
under  his  yoke,  growing  more  and  more  irritated  as  he  saw  small 
men  advanced  to  large  positions,  while  he  remained  unnoticed  in  a 
little  country  church,  —  largely  because  he  was  too  proud  and  too 
blunt  with  those  who  might  have  advanced  him.  While  at  Laracor 
he  finished  his  Tale  of  a  Tub,  a  satire  on  the  various  churches  of 
the  day,  which  was  published  in  London  with  the  Battle  of  the  Books 
in  1704.  The  work  brought  him  into  notice  as  the  most  powerful 
satirist  of  the  age,  and  he  soon  gave  up  his  church  to  enter  the 
strife  of  party  politics.  The  cheap  pamphlet  was  then  the  most 


2/2 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


powerful  political  weapon  known ;  and  as  Swift  had  no  equal  at 
pamphlet  writing,  he  soon  became  a  veritable  dictator.  For  several 
years,  especially  from  1710  to  1713,  Swift  was  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant figures  in  London.  The  Whigs  feared  the  lash  of  his  satire ; 
the  Tories  feared  to  lose  his  support.  He  was  courted,  flattered, 
cajoled  on  every  side ;  but  the  use  he  made  of  his  new  power  is  sad 
to  contemplate.  An  unbearable  arrogance  took  possession  of  him. 


TRINITY  COLLEGE,  DUBLIN 

Lords,  statesmen,  even  ladies  were  compelled  to  sue  for  his  favor 
and  to  apologize  for  every  fancied  slight  to  his  egoism.  It  is  at  this 
time  that  he  writes  in  his  Journal  to  Stella  : 

Mr.  Secretary  told  me  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  had  been  talking 
much  about  me  and  desired  my  acquaintance.  I  answered  it  could  not 
be,  for  he  had  not  yet  made  sufficient  advances ;  then  Shrewsbury  said 
he  thought  the  Duke  was  not  used  to  make  advances.  I  said  I  could 
not  help  that,  for  I  always  expected  advances  in  proportion  to  men's 
quality,  and  more  from  a  Duke  than  any  other  man. 

Writing  to  the  Duchess  of  Queensberry  he  says : 

I  am  glad  you  know  your  duty ;  for  it  has  been  a  known  and  estab- 
lished rule  above  twenty  years  in  England  that  the  first  advances  have 
been  constantly  made  me  by  all  ladies  who  aspire  to  my  acquaintance, 
and  the  greater  their  quality  the  greater  were  their  advances. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  273 

When  the  Tories  went  out  of  power  Swift's  position  became  un- 
certain. He  expected  and  had  probably  been  promised  a  bishopric 
in  England,  with  a  seat  among  the  peers  of  the  realm;  but  the 
Tories  offered  him  instead  the  place  of  dean  of  St.  Patrick's  Cathe- 
dral in  Dublin.  It  was  galling  to  a  man  of  his  proud  spirit;  but 
after  his  merciless  satire  on  religion,  in  The  Tale  of  a  Tub,  any 
ecclesiastical  position  in  England  was  rendered  impossible.  Dublin 
was  the  best  he  could  get,  and  he  accepted  it  bitterly,  once  more 
cursing  the  fate  which  he  had  brought  upon  himself. 

With  his  return  to  Ireland  begins  the  last  act  in  the  tragedy  of 
his  life.  His  best  known  literary  work,  Gulliver's  Travels,  was  done 
here ;  but  the  bitterness  of  life  grew  slowly  to  insanity,  and  a  fright- 
ful personal  sorrow,  of  which  he  never  spoke,  reached  its  climax  in 
the  death  of  Esther  Johnson,  a  beautiful  young  woman,  who  had 
loved  Swift  ever  since  the  two  had  met  in  Temple's  household,  and 
to  whom  he  had  written  his  Journal  to  Stella.  During  the  last  years 
of  his  life  a  brain  disease,  of  which  he  had  shown  frequent  symp- 
toms, fastened  its  terrible  hold  upon  Swift,  and  he  became  by  turns 
an  idiot  and  a  madman.  He  died  in  1745,  and  when  his  will  was 
opened  it  was  found  that  he  had  left  all  his  property  to  found  St. 
Patrick's  Asylum  for  lunatics  and  incurables.  It  stands  to-day  as 
the  most  suggestive  monument  of  his  peculiar  genius. 

The  Works  of  Swift.  From  Swift's  life  one  can  readily 
foresee  the  kind  of  literature  he  will  produce.  Taken  together 
his  works  are  a  monstrous  satire  on  humanity ;  and  the  spirit 
of  that  satire  is  shown  clearly  in  a  little  incident  of  his  first 
days  in  London.  There  was  in  the  city  at  that  time  a  certain 
astrologer  named  Partridge,  who  duped  the  public  by  calcu- 
lating nativities  from  the  stars,  and  by  selling  a  yearly  almanac 
predicting  future  events.  Swift,  who  hated  all  shams,  wrote, 
with  a  great  show  of  learning,  his  famous  Bickerstaff  Alma- 
nac, containing  "Predictions  for  the  Year  1708,  as  Deter- 
mined by  the  Unerring  Stars."  As  Swift  rarely  signed  his 
name  to  any  literary  work,  letting  it  stand  or  fall  on  its  own 
merits,  his  burlesque  appeared  over  the  pseudonym  of  Isaac 
Bickerstaff,  a  name  afterwards  made  famous  by  Steele  in  The 
Tatler.  Among  the  predictions  was  the  following : 


274  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

My  first  prediction  is  but  a  trifle  ;  yet  I  will  mention  it  to  show  how 
ignorant  those  sottish  pretenders  to  astrology  are  in  their  own  concerns  : 
it  relates  to  Partridge  the  almanack  maker ;  I  have  consulted  the  star 
of  his  nativity  by  my  own  rules,  and  find  he  will  infallibly  die  upon  the 
29th  of  March  next,  about  eleven  at  night,  of  a  raging  fever  ;  therefore 
I  advise  him  to  consider  of  it,  and  settle  his  affairs  in  time. 

On  March  30,  the  day  after  the  prediction  was  to  be  ful- 
filled, there  appeared  in  the  newspapers  a  letter  from  a  revenue 
officer  giving  the  details  of  Partridge's  death,  with  the  doings 
of  the  bailiff  and  the  coffin  maker  ;  and  on  the  following 
morning  appeared  an  elaborate  "  Elegy  of  Mr.  Partridge." 
When  poor  Partridge,  who  suddenly  found  himself  without 
customers,  published  a  denial  of  the  burial,  Swift  answered 
with  an  elaborate  "  Vindication  of  Isaac  Bickerstaff,"  in  which 
he  proved  by  astrological  rules  that  Partridge  was  dead,  and 
that  the  man  now  in  his  place  was  an  impostor  trying  to  cheat 
the  heirs  out  of  their  inheritance. 

This  ferocious  joke  is  suggestive  of  all  Swift's  satires. 
Against  any  case  of  hypocrisy  or  injustice  he  sets  up  a  remedy 
Character  °^  Precisely  tne  same  kind,  only  more  atrocious, 
of  Swift's  and  defends  his  plan  with  such  seriousness  that 
the  satire  overwhelms  the  reader  with  a  sense  of 
monstrous  falsity.  Thus  his  solemn  "  Argument  to  prove  that 
the  Abolishing  of  Christianity  may  be  attended  with  Some 
Inconveniences"  is  such  a  frightful  satire  upon  the  abuses  of 
Christianity  by  its  professed  followers  that  it  is  impossible  for 
us  to  say  whether  Swift  intended  to  point  out  needed  reforms, 
or  to  satisfy  his  conscience,1  or  to  perpetrate  a  joke  on  the 
Church,  as  he  had  done  on  poor  Partridge.  So  also  with  his 
"Modest  Proposal,"  concerning  the  children  of  Ireland,  which 
sets  up  the  proposition  that  poor  Irish  farmers  ought  to  raise 
children  as  dainties,  to  be  eaten,  like  roast  pigs,  on  the  tables 
of  prosperous  Englishmen.  In  this  most  characteristic  work 

1  It  is  only  fair  to  point  out  that  Swift  wrote  this  and  two  other  pamphlets  on  religion 
at  a  time  when  he  knew  that  they  would  damage,  if  not  destroy,  his  own  prospects  of 
political  advancement. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  275 

it  is  impossible  to  find  Swift  or  his  motive.  The  injustice 
under  which  Ireland  suffered,  her  perversity  in  raising  large 
families  to  certain  poverty,  and  the  indifference  of  English 
politicians  to  her  suffering  and  protests  are  all  mercilessly 
portrayed ;  but  why  ?  That  is  still  the  unanswered  problem 
of  Swift's  life  and  writings. 

Swift's  two  greatest  satires  are  his  Tale  of  a  Tub  and 
Gulliver's  Travels.  The  Tale  began  as  a  grim  exposure  of 
Tale  of  a  Tub  t^ie  a^eged  weaknesses  of  three  principal  forms  of 
religious  belief,  Catholic,  Lutheran,  and  Calvinist, 
as  opposed  to  the  Anglican  ;  but  it  ended  in  a  satire  upon  all 
science  and  philosophy. 

Swift  explains  his  whimsical  title  by  the  custom  of  mariners  in 
throwing  out  a  tub  to  a  whale,  in  order  to  occupy  the  monster's  atten- 
tion and  divert  it  from  an  attack  upon  the  ship,  —  which  only  proves 
how  little  Swift  knew  of  whales  or  sailors.  But  let  that  pass.  His  book 
is  a  tub  thrown  out  to  the  enemies  of  Church  and  State  to  keep  them 
occupied  from  further  attacks  or  criticism  ;  and  the  substance  of  the 
argument  is  that  all  churches,  and  indeed  all  religion  and  science  and 
statesmanship,  are  arrant  hypocrisy.  The  best  known  part  of  the  book 
is  the  allegory  of  the  old  man  who  died  and  left  a  coat  (which  is  Chris- 
tian Truth)  to  each  of  his  three  sons,  Peter,  Martin,  and  Jack,  with 
minute  directions  for  its  care  and  use.  These  three  names  stand  for 
Catholics,  Lutherans,  and  Calvinists ;  and  the  way  in  which  the  sons 
evade  their  father's  will  and  change  the  fashion  of  their  garment  is  part 
of  the  bitter  satire  upon  all  religious  sects.  Though  it  professes  to 
defend  the  Anglican  Church,  that  institution  fares  perhaps  worse  than 
the  others  ;  for  nothing  is  left  to  her  but  a  thin  cloak  of  custom  under 
which  to  hide  her  alleged  hypocrisy. 

In  Gulliver's  Travels  the  satire  grows  more  unbearable. 
Strangely  enough,  this  book,  upon  which  Swift's  literary  fame 
Gulliver's  generally  rests,  was  not  written  from  any  literary 
motive,  but  rather  as  an  outlet  for  the  author's 
own  bitterness  against  fate  and  human  society.  It  is  still 
read  with  pleasure,  as  Robinson  Crusoe  is  read,  for  the  inter- 
esting adventures  of  the  hero ;  and  fortunately  those  who 
read  it  generally  overlook  its  degrading  influence  and  motive. 


276  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Gulliver^s  Travels  records  the  pretended  four  voyages  of  one  Lemuel 
Gulliver,  and  his  adventures  in  four  astounding  countries.  The  first 
book  tells  of  his  voyage  and  shipwreck  in  Lilliput,  where  the  inhabitants 
are  about  as  tall  as  one's  thumb,  and  all  their  acts  and  motives  are  on 
the  same  dwarfish  scale.  In  the  petty  quarrels  of  these  dwarfs  we  are 
supposed  to  see  the  littleness  of  humanity.  The  statesmen  who  obtain 
place  and  favor  by  cutting  monkey  capers  on  the  tight  rope  before  their 
sovereign,  and  the  two  great  parties,  the  Littleendians  and  Bigendians, 
who  plunge  the  country  into  civil  war  over  the  momentous  question  of 
whether  an  egg  should  be  broken  on  its  big  or  on  its  little  end,  are  sat- 
ires on  the  politics  of  Swift's  own  day  and  generation.  The  style  is 
simple  and  convincing ;  the  surprising  situations  and  adventures  are  as 
absorbing  as  those  of  Defoe's  masterpiece  ;  and  altogether  it  is  the 
most  interesting  of  Swift's  satires. 

On  the  second  voyage  Gulliver  is  abandoned  in  Brobdingnag,  where 
the  inhabitants  are  giants,  and  everything  is  done  upon  an  enormous 
scale.  The  meanness  of  humanity  seems  all  the  more  detestable  in  view 
of  the  greatness  of  these  superior  beings.  When  Gulliver  tells  about 
his  own  people,  their  ambitions  and  wars  and  conquests,  the  giants  can 
only  wonder  that  such  great  venom  could  exist  in  such  little  insects. 

In  the  third  voyage  Gulliver  continues  his  adventures  in  Laputa,  and 
this  is  a  satire  upon  all  the  scientists  and  philosophers.  Laputa  is  a 
flying  island,  held  up  in  the  air  by  a  loadstone  ;  and  all  the  professors 
of  the  famous  academy  at  Lagado  are  of  the  same  airy  constitution. 
The  philosopher  who  worked  eight  years  to  extract  sunshine  from 
cucumbers  is  typical  of  Swift's  satiric  treatment  of  all  scientific  prob- 
lems. It  is  in  this  voyage  that  we  hear  of  the  Struldbrugs,  a  ghastly 
race  of  men  who  are  doomed  to  live  upon  earth  after  losing  hope  and 
the  desire  for  life.  The  picture  is  all  the  more  terrible  in  view  of  the 
last  years  of  Swift's  own  life,  in  which  he  was  compelled  to  live  on,  a 
burden  to  himself  and  his  friends. 

In  these  three  voyages  the  evident  purpose  is  to  strip  off  the  veil  of 
habit  and  custom,  with  which  men  deceive  themselves,  and  show  the 
crude  vices  of  humanity  as  Swift  fancies  he  sees  them.  In  the  fourth 
voyage  the  merciless  satire  is  carried  out  to  its  logical  conclusion.  This 
brings  us  to  the  land  of  the  Houyhnhnms,  in  which  horses,  superior 
and  intelligent  creatures,  are  the  ruling  animals.  All  our  interest,  how- 
ever, is  centered  on  the  Yahoos,  a  frightful  race,  having  the  form  and 
appearance  of  men,  but  living  in  unspeakable  degradation. 

The  Journal  to  Stella,  written  chiefly  in  the  years  1710- 
1713  for  the  benefit  of  Esther  Johnson,  is  interesting  to  us 
for  two  reasons.  It  is,  first,  an  excellent  commentary  on 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  277 

contemporary  characters  and  political  events,  by  one  of  the 
most  powerful  and  original  minds  of  the  age ;  and  second,  in 
Misceiiane-  its  l°ve  passages  and  purely  personal  descriptions 
ous  Works  it  gives  us  the  l^est  picture  we  possess  of  Swift 
himself  at  the  summit  of  his  power  and  influence.  As  we 
read  now  its  words  of  tenderness  for  the  woman  who  loved 
him,  and  who  brought  almost  the  only  ray  of  sunlight  into 
his  life,  we  can  only  wonder  and  be  silent.  Entirely  different 
are  his  Drapier's  Letters,  a  model  of  political  harangue  and  of 
popular  argument,  which  roused  an  unthinking  English  public 
and  did  much  benefit  to  Ireland  by  preventing  the  politicians' 
plan  of  debasing  the  Irish  coinage.  Swift's  poems,  though 
vigorous  and  original  (like  Defoe's,  of  the  same  period),  are 
generally  satirical,  often  coarse,  and  seldom  rise  above  dog- 
gerel. Unlike  his  friend  Addison,  Swift  saw,  in  the  growing 
polish  and  decency  of  society,  only  a  mask  for  hypocrisy ; 
and  he  often  used  his  verse  to  shock  the  new-born  modesty 
by  pointing  out  some  native  ugliness  which  his  diseased  mind 
discovered  under  every  beautiful  exterior. 

That  Swift  is  the  most  original  writer  of  his  time,  and  one 
of  the  greatest  masters  of  English  prose,  is  undeniable. 
Character  of  Directness,  vigor,  simplicity,  mark  every  page. 
Swift's  Prose  Among  writers  of  that  age  he  stands  almost  alone 
in  his  disdain  of  literary  effects.  Keeping  his  object  steadily 
before  him,  he  drives  straight  on  to  the  end,  with  a  convin- 
cing power  that  has  never  been  surpassed  in  our  language. 
Even  in  his  most  grotesque  creations,  the  reader  never  loses 
the  sense  of  reality,  of  being  present  as  an  eyewitness  of  the 
most  impossible  events,  so  powerful  and  convincing  is  Swift's 
prose.  Defoe  had  the  same  power ;  but  in  writing  Robinson 
Crusoe,  for  instance,  his  task  was  comparatively  easy,  since 
his  hero  and  his  adventures  were  both  natural ;  while  Swift 
gives  reality  to  pygmies,  giants,  and  the  most  impossible 
situations,  as  easily  as  if  he  were  writing  of  facts.  Notwith- 
standing these  excellent  qualities,  the  ordinary  reader  will  do 


278 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


well  to  confine  himself  to  Gulliver  s  Travels  and  a  book  of 
well-chosen  selections.  For,  it  must  be  confessed,  the  bulk 
of  Swift's  work  is  not  wholesome  reading.  It  is  too  terribly 
satiric  and  destructive  ;  it  emphasizes  the  faults  and  failings 
of  humanity ;  and  so  runs  counter  to  the  general  course  of 
our  literature,  which  from  Cynewulf  to  Tennyson  follows  the 
Ideal,  as  Merlin  followed  the  Gleam,1  and  is  not  satisfied  till 
the  hidden  beauty  of  man's  soul  and  the  divine  purpose  of  his 
struggle  are  manifest. 

JOSEPH  ADDISON  (1672-1719) 

In  the  pleasant  art  of  living  with  one's  fellows,  Addison  is 
easily  a  master.  It  is  due  to  his  perfect  expression  of  that 
art,  of  that  new  social  life  which,  as  we  have  noted,  was  char- 
acteristic of  the  Age  of  Anne, 
that  Addison  occupies  such  a 
large  place  in  the  history  of 
literature.  Of  less  power  and 
originality  than  Swift,  he  never- 
theless wields,  and  deserves  to 
wield,  a  more  lasting  influence. 
Swift  is  the  storm,  roaring 
against  the  ice  and  frost  of 
the  late  spring  of  English  life. 
Addison  is  the  sunshine,  which 
melts  the  ice  and  dries  the  mud 
and  makes  the  earth  thrill  with 
light  and  hope.  Like  Swift,  he 

JOSEPH  ADDISON  «••••«''  i  TI       i   • 

despised  shams,  but  unlike  him, 

he  never  lost  faith  in  humanity ;  and  in  all  his  satires  there  is 
a  gentle  kindliness  which  makes  one  think  better  of  his  fellow- 
men,  even  while  he  laughs  at  their  little  vanities. 

Two  things  Addison  did  for  our  literature  which  are  of 
inestimable   value.     First,    he   overcame    a    certain    corrupt 

1  See  Tennyson's  "  Merlin  and  the  Gleam." 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  279 

tendency  bequeathed  by  Restoration  literature.  It  was  the 
apparent  aim  of  the  low  drama,  and  even  of  much  of  the  poetry 
Addison's  of tnat  age> to  make  virtue  ridiculous  and  vice  attract- 
influence  jve  Addison  set  himself  squarely  against  this  un- 
worthy tendency.  To  strip  off  the  mask  of  vice,  to  show  its 
ugliness  and  deformity,  but  to  reveal  virtue  in  its  own  native 
loveliness,  —  that  was  Addison's  purpose;  and  he  succeeded 
so  well  that  never,  since  his  day,  has  our  English  literature 
seriously  followed  after  false  gods.  As  Macaulay  says,  "So 
effectually  did  he  retort  on  vice  the  mockery  which  had  re- 
cently been  directed  against  virtue,  that  since  his  time  the 
open  violation  of  decency  has  always  been  considered  amongst 
us  a  sure  mark  of  a  fool."  And  second,  prompted  and  aided 
by  the  more  original  genius  of  his  friend  Steele,  Addison 
seized  upon  the  new  social  life  of  the  clubs  and  made  it  the 
subject  of  endless  pleasant  essays  upon  types  of  men  and 
manners.  The  Tat/erand  The  Spectator are  the  beginning  of 
the  modern  essay ;  and  their  studies  ^of  human  character,  as 
exemplified  in  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  are  a  preparation  for 
the  modern  novel. 

Life.  Addison's  life,  like  his  writings,  is  in  marked  contrast  to 
that  of  Swift.  He  was  bom  in  Milston,  Wiltshire,  in  1672.  His 
father  was  a  scholarly  English  clergyman,  and  all  his  life  Addison 
followed  naturally  the  quiet  and  cultured  ways  to  which  he  was  early 
accustomed.  At  the  famous  Charterhouse  School,  in  London,  and 
in  his  university  life  at  Oxford,  he  excelled  in  character  and  scholar- 
ship and  became  known  as  a  writer  of  graceful  verses.  He  had  some 
intention,  at  one  time,  of  entering  the  Church,  but  was  easily  per- 
suaded by  his  friends  to  take  up  the  government  service  instead. 
Unlike  Swift,  who  abused  his  political  superiors,  Addison  took  the 
more  tactful  way  of  winning  the  friendship  of  men  in  large  places. 
His  lines  to  Di;yden  won  that  literary  leader's  instant  favor,  and  one 
of  his  Latin  poems,  "The  Peace  of  Ryswick"  (1697),  with  its  kindly 
appreciation  of  King  William's  statesmen,  brought  him  into  favorable 
political  notice.  It  brought  him  also  a  pension  of  three  hundred  pounds 
a  year,  with  a  suggestion  that  he  travel  abroad  and  cultivate  the  art 
of  diplomacy :  which  he  promptly  did  to  his  own  great  advantage. 


280  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

From  a  literary  view  point  the  most  interesting  work  of  Addison's 
early  life  is  his  Account  of  the  Greatest  English  Poets  (1693),  written 
while  he  was  a  fellow  of  Oxford  University.  One  rubs  his  eyes  to 
find  Dryden  lavishly  praised,  Spenser  excused  or  patronized,  while 
Shakespeare  is  not  even  mentioned.  But  Addison  was  writing  under 
Boileau's  "  classic  "  rules ;  and  the  poet,  like  the  age,  was  perhaps 
too  artificial  to  appreciate  natural  genius. 

While  he  was  traveling  abroad,  the  death  of  William  and  the 
loss  of  power  by  the  Whigs  suddenly  stopped  Addison's  pension ; 
necessity  brought  him  home,  and  for  a  time  he  lived  in  poverty  and 
obscurity.  Then  occurred  the  battle  of  Blenheim,  and  in  the  effort 
to  find  a  poet  to  celebrate  the  event,  Addison  was  brought  to  the 
Tories'  attention.  His  poem,  "The  Campaign,"  celebrating  the 
victory,  took  the  country  by  storm.  Instead  of  making  the  hero 
slay  his  thousands  and  ten  thousands,  like  the  old  epic  heroes, 
Addison  had  some  sense  of  what  is  required  in  a  modern  general, 
and  so  made  Marlborough  direct  the  battle  from  the  outside,  com- 
paring him  to  an  angel  riding  on  the  whirlwind  : 

'T  was  then  great  Marlbro's  mighty  soul  was  proved, 

That,  in  the  shock  of  charging  hosts  unmoved, 

Amidst  confusion,  horror,  and  despair, 

Examined  all  the  dreadful  scenes  of  war ; 

In  peaceful  thought  the  field  of  death  surveyed, 

To  fainting  squadrons  sent  the  timely  aid, 

Inspired  repulsed  battalions  to  engage, 

And  taught  the  doubtful  battle  where  to  rage. 

So  when  an  angel  by  divine  command 

With  rising  tempests  shakes  a  guilty  land, 

(Such  as  of  late  o'er  pale  Britannia  past,) 

Calm  and  serene  he  drives  the  furious  blast ; 

And,  pleased  th'  Almighty's  orders  to  perform, 

Rides  in  the  whirlwind,  and  directs  the  storm. 

That  one  doubtful  simile  made  Addison's  fortune.  Never  before 
or  since  was  a  poet's  mechanical  work  so  well  rewarded.  It  was 
called  the  finest  thing  ever  written,  and  from  that  day  Addison  rose 
steadily  in  political  favor  and  office.  He  became  in  turn  Under- 
secretary, member  of  Parliament,  Secretary  for  Ireland,  and  finally 
Secretary  of  State.  Probably  no  other  literary  man,  aided  by  his 
pen  alone,  ever  rose  so  rapidly  and  so  high  in  office. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  281 

The  rest  of  Addison's  life  was  divided  between  political  duties 
and  literature.  His  essays  for  the  Tatler  and  Spectator,  which  we 
still  cherish,  were  written  between  1709  and  1714  ;  but  he  won  more 
literary  fame  by  his  classic  tragedy  Cato,  which  we  have  almost  for- 
gotten. In  1716  he  married  a  widow,  the  Countess  of  Warwick,  and 
went  to  live  at  her  home,  the  famous  Holland  House.  His  married 
life  lasted  only  three  years,  and  was  probably  not  a  happy  one. 
Certainly  he  never  wrote  of  women  except  with  gentle  satire,  and 
he  became  more  and  more  a  clubman,  spending  most  of  his  time  in 
the  clubs  and  coffeehouses  of  London.  Up  to  this  time  his  life  had 
been  singularly  peaceful ;  but  his  last  years  were  shadowed  by  quar- 
rels, first  with  Pope,  then  with  Swift,  and  finally  with  his  lifelong 
friend  Steele.  The  first  quarrel  was  on  literary  grounds,  and  was 
largely  the  result  of  Pope's  jealousy.  The  latter's  venomous  carica- 
ture of  Addison  as  Atticus  shows  how  he  took  his  petty  revenge  on 
a  great  and  good  man  who  had  been  his  friend.  The  other  quarrels 
with  Swift,  and  especially  with  his  old  friend  Steele,  were  the  unfor- 
tunate result  of  political  differences,  and  show  how  impossible  it 
is  to  mingle  literary  ideals  with  party  politics.  He  died  serenely  in 
1719.  A  brief  description  from  Thackeray's  English  Humorists  is 
his  best  epitaph  : 

A  life  prosperous  and  beautiful,  a  calm  death  ;  an  immense  fame  and 
affection  afterwards  for  his  happy  and  spotless  name. 

Works  of  Addison.    The  most  enduring  of  Addison's  works 
are  his  famous  Essays,  collected  from  the  Tatler  and  Specta- 
tor.    We  have  spoken  of  him  as  a  master  of  the 

The  Essays  .  .... 

art  of  gentle  living,  and  these  essays  are  a  perpet- 
ual inducement  to  others  to  know  and  to  practice  the  same 
fine  art.  To  an  age  of  fundamental  coarseness  and  artificiality 
he  came  with  a  wholesome  message  of  refinement  and  sim- 
plicity, much  as  Ruskin  and  Arnold  spoke  to  a  later  age  of 
materialism  ;  only  Addison's  success  was  greater  than  theirs 
because  of  his  greater  knowledge  of  life  and  his  greater  faith 
in  men.  He  attacks  all  the  little  vanities  and  all  the  big  vices 
of  his  time,  not  in  Swift's  terrible  way,  which  makes  us  feel 
hopeless  of  humanity,  but  with  a  kindly  ridicule  and  gentle 
humor  which  takes  speedy  improvement  for  granted.  To  read 


282  ENGLISH   LITERATURE 

Swift's  brutal  "Letters  to  a  Young  Lady,"  and  then  to  read 
Addison's  "  Dissection  of  a  Beau's  Head  "  and  his  "  Dissection 
of  a  Coquette's  Heart,"  is  to  know  at  once  the  secret  of  the 
latter's  more  enduring  influence. 

Three  other  results  of  these  delightful  essays  are  worthy 
of  attention  :  first,  they  are  the  best  picture  we  possess  of 
the  new  social  life  of  England,  with  its  many  new  interests ; 
second,  they  advanced  the  art  of  literary  criticism  to  a  much 
higher  stage  than  it  had  ever  before  reached,  and  however 
much  we  differ  from  their  judgment  and  their  interpretation 
of  such  a  man  as  Milton,  they  certainly  led  Englishmen  to 
a  better  knowledge  and  appreciation  of  their  own  literature ; 
and  finally,  in  Ned  Softly  the  literary  dabbler,  Will  Wimble 
the  poor  relation,  Sir  Andrew  Freeport  the  merchant,  Will 
Honeycomb  the  fop,  and  Sir  Roger  the  country  gentleman, 
they  give  us  characters  that  live  forever  as  part  of  that  goodly 
company  which  extends  from  Chaucer's  country  parson  to 
Kipling's  Mulvaney.  Addison  and  Steele  not  only  introduced 
the  modern  essay,  but  in  such  characters  as  these  they  herald 
the  dawn  of  the  modern  novel.  Of  all  his  essays  the  best 
known  and  loved  are  those  which  introduce  us  to  Sir  Roger 
de  Coverley,  the  genial  dictator  of  life  and  manners  in  the 
quiet  English  country. 

In  style  these  essays  are  remarkable  as  showing  the  grow- 
ing perfection  of  the  English  language.  Johnson  says,  "  Who- 
Addison's  ever  wishes  to  attain  an  English  style,  familiar  but 
Style  not  coarse,  and  elegant  but  not  ostentatious,  must 

give  his  days  and  nights  to  the  volumes  of  Addison."  And 
again  he  says,  "  Give  nights  and  days,  sir,  to  the  study  of 
Addison  if  you  mean  to  be  a  good  writer,  or,  what  is  more 
worth,  an  honest  man."  That  was  good  criticism  for  its  day, 
and  even  at  the  present  time  critics  are  agreed  that  Addison's 
Essays  are  well  worth  reading  once  for  their  own  sake,  and 
many  times  for  their  influence  in  shaping  a  clear  and  graceful 
style  of  writing. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  283 

Addison's  poems,  which  were  enormously  popular  in  his 
day,  are  now  seldom  read.    His  Cato,  with  its  classic  unities 
and  lack  of  dramatic  power,  must  be  regarded  as  a 
failure,  if  we  study  it  as  tragedy ;  but  it  offers  an 
excellent  example  of  the  rhetoric  and  fine  sentiment  which 
were  then  considered  the  essentials  of  good  writing.   The  best 
scene  from  this  tragedy  is  in  the  fifth  act,  where  Cato  solilo- 
quizes, with  Plato's  Immortality  of  the  Soul  open  in  his  hand, 
and  a  drawn  sword  on  the  table  before  him : 

It  must  be  so  —  Plato,  thou  reason'st  well !  — 

Else  whence  this  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire, 

This  longing  after  immortality  ? 

Or  whence  this  secret  dread,  and  inward  horror, 

Of  falling  into  nought?  why  shrinks  the  soul 

Back  on  herself,  and  startles  at  destruction  ? 

'T  is  the  divinity  that  stirs  within  us  ; 

'T  is  heaven  itself,  that  points  out  an  hereafter, 

And  intimates  eternity  to  man. 

Many  readers  make  frequent  use  of  one  portion  of  Addi- 
son's poetry  without  knowing  to  whom  they  are  indebted. 
His  devout  nature  found  expression  in  many  hymns,  a  few  of 
which  are  still  used  and  loved  in  our  churches.  Many  a  con- 
gregation thrills,  as  Thackeray  did,  to  the  splendid  sweep  of 
his  "God  in  Nature,"  beginning,  "The  spacious  firmament  on 
high."  Almost  as  well  known  and  loved  are  his  "Traveler's 
Hymn,"  and  his  "Continued  Help,"  beginning,  "When  all 
thy  mercies,  O  my  God."  The  latter  hymn  —  written  in  a 
storm  at  sea  off  the  Italian  coast,  when  the  captain  and  crew 
were  demoralized  by  terror  —  shows  that  poetry,  especially  a 
good  hymn  that  one  can  sing  in  the  same  spirit  as  one  would 
say  his  prayers,  is  sometimes  the  most  practical  and  helpful 
thing  in  the  world. 

Richard  Steele  (1672-1729).  Steele  was  in  almost  every 
respect  the  antithesis  of  his  friend  and  fellow-worker, — a 
rollicking,  good-hearted,  emotional,  lovable  Irishman.  At  the 
Charterhouse  School  and  at  Oxford  he  shared  everything  with 


284  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Addison,  asking  nothing  but  love  in  return.  Unlike  Addison, 
he  studied  but  little,  and  left  the  university  to  enter  the  Horse 
Guards.  He  was  in  turn  soldier,  captain,  poet,  playwright, 
essayist,  member  of  Parliament,  manager  of  a  theater,  pub- 
lisher of  a  newspaper,  and  twenty  other  things,  —  all  of  which 
he  began  joyously  and  then  abandoned,  sometimes  against  his 
will,  as  when  he  was  expelled  from  Parliament,  and  again  be- 
cause some  other  interest  of  the  moment  had  more  attraction. 
His  poems  and  plays  are  now  little  known ;  but  the  reader 
who  searches  them  out  will  find  one  or  two  suggestive  things 
about  Steele  himself.  For  instance,  he  loves  children  ;  and 
he  is  one  of  the  few  writers  of  his  time  who  show  a  sincere 
and  unswerving  respect  for  womanhood.  Even  more  than 
Addison  he  ridicules  vice  and  makes  virtue  lovely.  He  is  the 
originator  of  the  Tatler,  and  joins  with  Addison  in  creating 
the  Spectator,  —  the  two  periodicals  which,  in  the  short  space 
of  less  than  four  years,  did  more  to  influence  subsequent  lit- 
erature than  all  other  magazines  of  the  century  combined. 
Moreover,  he  is  the  original  genius  of  Sir  Roger,  and  of  many 
other  characters  and  essays  for  which  Addison  usually  receives 
the  whole  credit.  It  is  often  impossible  in  the  Tatler  essays 
to  separate  the  work  of  the  two  men ;  but  the  majority  of 
critics  hold  that  the  more  original  parts,  the  characters,  the 
thought,  the  overflowing  kindliness,  are  largely  Steele's  crea- 
tion ;  while  to  Addison  fell  the  work  of  polishing  and  perfect- 
ing the  essays,  and  of  adding  that  touch  of  humor  which 
made  them  the  most  welcome  literary  visitors  that  England 
had  ever  received. 

The  Tatler  and  The  Spectator.  On  account  of  his  talent  in 
writing  political  pamphlets,  Steele  was  awarded  the  position 
of  official  gazetteer.  While  in  this  position,  and  writing  for 
several  small  newspapers,  the  idea  occurred  to  Steele  to  pub- 
lish a  paper  which  should  contain  not  only  the  political  news, 
but  also  the  gossip  of  the  clubs  and  coffeehouses,  with  some 
light  essays  on  the  life  and  manners  of  the  age.  The  immediate 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  285 

result  —  for  Steele  never  let  an  idea  remain  idle  —  was  the 
famous  Tatler,  the  first  number  of  which  appeared  April  12, 
1709.  It  was  a  small  folio  sheet,  appearing  on  post  days-,  three 
times  a  week,  and  it  sold  for  a  penny  a  copy.  That  it  had 
a  serious  purpose  is  evident  from  this  dedication  to  the  first 
volume  of  collected  Tatler  essays  : 

The  general  purpose  of  this  paper  is  to  expose  the  false  arts  of  life, 
to  pull  off  the  disguises  of  cunning,  vanity,  and  affectation,  and  to  recom- 
mend a  general  simplicity  in  our  dress,  our  discourse,  and  our  behavior. 

The  success  of  this  unheard-of  combination  of  news,  gossip, 
and  essay  was  instantaneous.  Not  a  club  or  a  coffeehouse 
in  London  could  afford  to  be  without  it,  and  over  its  pages 
began  the  first  general  interest  in  contemporary  English  life 
as  expressed  in  literature.  Steele  at  first  wrote  the  entire 
paper  and  signed  his  essays  with  the  name  of  Isaac  Bicker- 
staff,  which  had  been  made  famous  by  Swift  a  few  years  be- 
fore. Addison  is  said  to  have  soon  recognized  one  of  his  own 
remarks  to  Steele,  and  the  secret  of  the  authorship  was  out. 
From  that  time  Addison  was  a  regular  contributor,  and  occa- 
sionally other  writers  added  essays  on  the  new  social  life  of 
England.1 

Steele  lost  his  position  as  gazetteer,  and  the  Tatler  was 
discontinued  after  less  than  two  years'  life,  but  not  till  it 
won  an  astonishing  popularity  and  made  ready  the  way  for 
its  successor.  Two  months  later,  on  March  I,  1711,  appeared 
the  first  number  of  the  Spectator.  In  the  new  magazine 
politics  and  news,  as  such,  were  ignored  ;  it  was  a  literary 
magazine,  pure  and  simple,  and  its  entire  contents  consisted 
of  a  single  light  essay.  It  was  considered  a  crazy  venture  at 
the  time,  but  its  instant  success  proved  that  men  were  eager 
for  some  literary  expression  of  the  new  social  ideals.  The 

1  Of  the  Tatler  essays  Addison  contributed  forty-two  ;  thirty-six  others  were  written 
in  collaboration  with  Steele ;  while  at  least  a  hundred  and  eighty  are  the  work  of  Steele 
alone. 


286  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

following  whimsical  letter  to  the  editor  may  serve  to  indicate 
the  part  played  by  the  Spectator  in  the  daily  life  of  London : 

Mr.  Spectator,  —  Your  paper  is  a  part  of  my  tea  equipage;  and  my 
servant  knows  my  humor  so  well,  that  in  calling  for  my  breakfast  this 
morning  (it  being  past  my  usual  hour)  she  answered,  the  Spectators -as  not 
yet  come  in,  but  the  teakettle  boiled,  and  she  expected  it  every  moment. 

It  is  in  the  incomparable  Spectator  papers  that  Addison 
shows  himself  most  "worthy  to  be  remembered."  He  con- 
tributed the  majority  of  its  essays,  and  in  its  firsk  number 
appears  this  description  of  the  Spectator,  by  which  name 
Addison  is  now  generally  known  : 

There  is  no  place  of  general  resort  wherein  I  do  not  often  make  my 
appearance  ;  sometimes  I  am  seen  thrusting  my  head  into  a  round  of 
politicians  at  Will's  [Coffeehouse]  and  listening  with  great  attention  to 
the  narratives  that  are  made  in  those  little  circular  audiences.  Sometimes 
I  smoke  a  pipe  at  Child's,  and,  whilst  I  seem  attentive  to  nothing  but 
The  Postman,  overhear  the  conversation  of  every  table  in  the  room.  I 
appear  on  Sunday  nights  at  St.  James's,  and  sometimes  join  the  little 
committee  of  politics  in  the  inner  room,  as  one  who  comes  to  hear  and 
improve.  My  face  is  likewise  very  well  known  at  the  Grecian,  the  Cocoa 
Tree,  and  in  the  theaters  both  of  Drury  Lane  and  the  Haymarket.  I 
have  been  taken  for  a  merchant  upon  the  Exchange  for  above  these 
ten  years ;  and  sometimes  pass  for  a  Jew  in  the  assembly  of  stock  job- 
bers at  Jonathan's.  .  .  .  Thus  I  live  in  the  world  rather  as  a  spectator 
of  mankind  than  as  one  of  the  species,  .  .  .  which  is  the  character  I  in- 
tend to  preserve  in  this  paper. 

The  large  place  which  these  two  little  magazines  hold  in 
our  literature  seems  most  disproportionate  to  their  short  span 
of  days.  In  the  short  space  of  four  years  in  which  Addison 
and  Steele  worked  together  the  light  essay  was  established  as 
one  of  the  most  important  forms  of  modern  literature,  and 
the  literary  magazine  won  its  place  as  the  expression  of  the 
social  life  of  a  nation. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE 


287 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON  (1709-1784) 

The  reader  of  Boswell's  Johnson,  after  listening  to  endless 
grumblings  and  watching  the  clumsy  actions  of  the  hero,  often 
finds  himself  wondering  why  he  should  end  his  reading  with 
a  profound  respect  for  this  "  old  bear  "  who  is  the  object  of 
Boswell's  groveling  attention.  Here  is  a  man  who  was  cer- 
tainly not  the  greatest  writer  of  his  age,  perhaps  not  even  a 
great  writer  at  all,  but  who 
was  nevertheless  the  dictator 
of  English  letters,  and  who 
still  looms  across  the  cen- 
turies of  a  magnificent  litera- 
ture as  its  most  striking  and 
original  figure.  Here,  more- 
over, is  a  huge,  fat,  awkward 
man,  of  vulgar  manners  and 
appearance,  who  monopo- 
lizes conversation,  argues 
violently,  abuses  everybody, 
clubs  down  opposition,  — 
"  Madam  "  (speaking  to  his 
cultivated  hostess  at  table), 
"talk  no  more  nonsense"; 
"Sir"  (turning  to  a  distin- 
guished guest),  "  I  perceive  you  are  a  vile  Whig."  While 
talking  he  makes  curious  animal  sounds,  "  sometimes  giving  a 
half  whistle,  sometimes  clucking  like  a  hen";  and  when  he  has 
concluded  a  violent  dispute  and  laid  his  opponents  low  by 
dogmatism  or  ridicule,  he  leans  back  to  "  blow  out  his  breath 
like  a  whale  "  and  gulp  down  numberless  cups  of  hot  tea.  Yet 
this  curious  dictator  of  an  elegant  age  was  a  veritable  lion, 
much  sought  after  by  society  ;  and  around  him  in  his  own 
poor  house  gathered  the  foremost  artists,  scholars,  actors,  and 
literary  men  of  London,  —  all  honoring  the  man,  loving  him, 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON 


288  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

and  listening  to  his  dogmatism  as  the  Greeks  listened  to  the 
voice  of  their  oracle. 

What  is  the  secret  of  this  astounding  spectacle  ?  If  the 
reader  turns  naturally  to  Johnson's  works  for  an  explanation, 
he  will  be  disappointed.  Reading  his  verses,  we  find  nothing 
to  delight  or  inspire  us,  but  rather  gloom  and  pessimism,  with 
a  few  moral  observations  in  rimed  couplets  : 

But,  scarce  observed,  the  knowing  and  the  bold 
Fall  in  the  general  massacre  of  gold ; 
Wide-wasting  pest !  that  rages  unconfined, 
And  crowds  with  crimes  the  records  of  mankind ; 
For  gold  his  sword  the  hireling  ruffian  draws, 
For  gold  the  hireling  judge  distorts  the  laws ; 
Wealth  heaped  on  wealth  nor  truth  nor  safety  buys ; 
The  dangers  gather  as  the  treasures  rise.1 

That  is  excellent  common  sense,  but  it  is  not  poetry ;  and 
it  is  not  necessary  to  hunt  through  Johnson's  bulky  volumes 
for  the  information,  since  any  moralist  can  give  us  offhand 
the  same  doctrine.  As  for  his  Rambler  essays,  once  so  suc- 
cessful, though  we  marvel  at  the  big  words,  the  carefully 
balanced  sentences,  the  classical  allusions,  one  might  as  well 
try  to  get  interested  in  an  old-fashioned,  three-hour  sermon. 
We  read  a  few  pages  listlessly,  yawn,  and  go  to  bed. 

Since  the  man's  work  fails  to  account  for  his  leadership 
and  influence,  we  examine  his  personality;  and  here  every- 
thing is  interesting.  Because  of  a  few  oft-quoted  passages 
from  Boswell's  biography,  Johnson  appears  to  us  as  an 
eccentric  bear,  who  amuses  us  by  his  growlings  and  clumsy 
antics.  But  there  is  another  Johnson,  a  brave,  patient,  kindly, 
religious  soul,  who,  as  Goldsmith  said,  had  "nothing  of  the 
bear  but  his  skin";  a  man  who  battled  like  a  hero  against 
poverty  and  pain  and  melancholy  and  the  awful  fear  of  death, 
and  who  overcame  them  manfully.  "  That  trouble  passed 
away  ;  so  will  this"  sang  the  sorrowing  Deor  in  the  first  old 

l  From  "  The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes." 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  289 

Anglo-Saxon  lyric ;  and  that  expresses  the  great  and  suffer- 
ing spirit  of  Johnson,  who  in  the  face  of  enormous  obstacles 
never  lost  faith  in  God  or  in  himself.  Though  he  was  a  reac- 
tionary in  politics,  upholding  the  arbitrary  power  of  kings  and 
opposing  the  growing  liberty  of  the  people,  yet  his  political 
theories,  like  his  manners,  were  no  deeper  than  his  skin ;  for 
in  all  London  there  was  none  more  kind  to  the  wretched,  and 
none  more  ready  to  extend  an  open  hand  to  every  struggling 
man  and  woman  who  crossed  his  path.  When  he  passed 
poor  homeless  Arabs  sleeping  in  the  streets  he  would  slip  a 
coin  into  their  hands,  in  order  that  they  might  have  a  happy 
awakening  ;  for  he  himself  knew  well  what  it  meant  to  be 
hungry.  Such  was  Johnson,  —  a  "  mass  of  genuine  manhood," 
as  Carlyle  called  him,  and  as  such,  men  loved  and  honored  him.1 

Life  of  Johnson.  Johnson  was  born  in  Lichfield,  Staffordshire,  in 
1709.  He  was  the  son  of  a  small  bookseller,  a  poor  man,  but  intelli- 
gent and  fond  of  literature,  as  booksellers  invariably  were  in  the  good 
days  when  every  town  had  its  bookshop.  From  his  childhood  John- 
son had  to  struggle  against  physical  deformity  and  disease  and  the 
consequent  disinclination  to  hard  work.  He  prepared  for  the  uni- 
versity, partly  in  the  schools,  but  largely  by  omnivorous  reading  in 
his  father's  shop,  and  when  he  entered  Oxford  he  had  read  more 
classical  authors  than  had  most  of  the  graduates.  Before  finishing 
his  course  he  had  to  leave  the  university  on  account  of  his  poverty, 
and  at  once  he  began  his  long  struggle  as  a  hack  writer  to  earn 
his  living. 

At  twenty-five  years  he  married  a  woman  old  enough  to  be  his 
mother,  —  a  genuine  love  match,  he  called  it,  —  and  with  her  dowry 
of  ;£8oo  they  started  a  private  school  together,  which  was  a  dismal 
failure.  Then,  without  money  or  influential  friends,  he  left  his  home 
and  wife  in  Lichfield  and  tramped  to  London,  accompanied  only  by 
David  Garrick,  afterwards  the  famous  actor,  who  had  been  one  of 
his  pupils.  Here,  led  by  old  associations,  Johnson  made  himself 

1  A  very  lovable  side  of  Johnson's  nature  is  shown  by  his  doing  penance  in  the  pub- 
lic market  place  for  his  unfilial  conduct  as  a  boy.  (See,  in  Hawthorne's  Our  Old  Home, 
the  article  on  "  Lichfield  and  Johnson.")  His  sterling  manhood  is  recalled  in  his  famous 
letter  to  Lord  Chesterfield,  refusing  the  latter's  patronage  for  the  Dictionary.  The  stu- 
dent should  read  this  incident  entire,  in  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson. 


290  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

known  to  the  booksellers,  and  now  and  then  earned  a  penny  by 
writing  prefaces,  reviews,  and  translations. 

It  was  a  dog's  life,  indeed,  that  he  led  there  with  his  literary 
brethren.  Many  of  the  writers  of  the  day,  who  are  ridiculed  in  Pope's 
heartless  Dunciad,  having  no  wealthy  patrons  to  support  them, 
lived  largely  in  the  streets  and  taverns,  sleeping  on  an  ash  heap  or 
under  a  wharf,  like  rats  ;  glad  of  a  crust,  and  happy  over  a  single 
meal  which  enabled  them  to  work  for  a  while  without  the  reminder 
of  hunger.  A  few  favored  ones  lived  in  wretched  lodgings  in  Grub 
Street,  which  has  since  become  a  synonym  for  the  fortunes  of  strug- 
gling writers.1  Often,  Johnson  tells  us,  he  walked  the  streets  all  night 
long,  in  dreary  weather,  when  it  was  too  cold  to  sleep,  without  food 
or  shelter.  But  he  wrote  steadily  for  the  booksellers  and  for  the 
Gentleman's  Magazine,  and  presently  he  became  known  in  London 
and  received  enough  work  to  earn  a  bare  living. 

The  works  which  occasioned  this  small  success  were  his  poem, 
"  London,"  and  his  Life  of  the  Poet  Savage,  a  wretched  life,  at  best, 
which  were  perhaps  better  left  without  a  biographer.  But  his  success 
was  genuine,  though  small,  and  presently  the  booksellers  of  London 
are  coming  to  him  to  ask  him  to  write  a  dictionary  of  the  English 
language.  It  was  an  enormous  work,  taking  nearly  eight  years 
of  his  time,  and  long  before  he  had  finished  it  he  had  eaten  up 
the  money  which  he  received  for  his  labor.  In  the  leisure  intervals 
of  this  work  he  wrote  "The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes"  and  other 
poems,  and  finished  his  classic  tragedy  of  Irene. 

Led  by  the  great  success  of  the  Spectator,  Johnson  started  two 
magazines,  The  Rambler  (1750—1752)  and  The  Idler  (1758-1760). 
Later  the  Rambler  essays  were  published  in  book  form  and  ran 
rapidly  through  ten  editions ;  but  the  financial  returns  were  small, 
and  Johnson  spent  a  large  part  of  his  earnings  in  charity.  When  his 
mother  died,  in  1759,  Johnson,  although  one  of  the  best  known  men 
in  London,  had  no  money,  and  hurriedly  finished  Rasselas,  his  only 
romance,  in  order,  it  is  said,  to  pay  for  his  mother's  burial. 

It  was  not  till  1762,  when  Johnson  was  fifty-three  years  old,  that 
his  literary  labors  were  rewarded  in  the  usual  way  by  royalty,  and  he 
received  from  George  III  a  yearly  pension  of  three  hundred  pounds. 
Then  began  a  little  sunshine  in  his  life.  With  Joshua  Reynolds,  the 

1  In  Johnson's  Dictionary  we  find  this  definition :  "  Grub-street,  the  name  of  a  street 
in  London  much  inhabited. by  writers  of  small  histories,  dictionaries,  and  temporary 
poems;  whence  any  mean  production  is  called  Grub-street." 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  291 

artist,  he  founded  the  famous  Literary  Club,  of  which  Burke,  Pitt, 
Fox,  Gibbon,  Goldsmith,  and  indeed  all  the  great  literary  men  and 
politicians  of  the  time,  were  members.  This  is  the  period  of  John- 
son's famous  conversations,  which  were  caught  in  minutest  detail  by 
Boswell  and  given  to  the  world.  His  idea  of  conversation,  as  shown 
in  a  hundred  places  in  Boswell,  is  to  overcome  your  adversary  at 
any  cost ;  to  knock  him  down  by  arguments,  or,  when  these  fail, 
by  personal  ridicule  ;  to  dogmatize  on  every  possible  question,  pro- 
nounce a  few  oracles,  and  then  desist  with  the  air  of  victory.  Con- 
cerning the  philosopher  Hume's  view  of  death  he  says :  "  Sir,  if  he 
really  thinks  so,  his  perceptions  are  disturbed,  he  is  mad.  If  he  does 
not  think  so,  he  lies."  Exit  opposition.  There  is  nothing  more  to 
be  said.  Curiously  enough,  it  is  often  the  palpable  blunders  of  these 
monologues  that  now  attract  us,  as  if  we  were  enjoying  a  good  joke 
at  the  dictator's  expense.  Once  a  lady  asked  him,  "  Dr.  Johnson, 
why  did  you  define  pastern  as  the  knee  of  a  horse?  "  "  Ignorance, 
madame,  pure  ignorance,"  thundered  the  great  authority. 

When  seventy  years  of  age,  Johnson  was  visited  by  several  book- 
sellers of  the  city,  who  were  about  to  bring  out  a  new  edition  of 
the  English  poets,  and  who  wanted  Johnson,  as  the  leading  literary 
man  of  London,  to  write  the  prefaces  to  the  several  volumes.  The 
result  was  his  Lives  of  the  Poets,  as  it  is  now  known,  and  this  is  his 
last  literary  work.  He  died  in  his  poor  Fleet  Street  house,  in  1 784,  and 
was  buried  among  England's  honored  poets  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

Johnson's  Works.  "A  book,"  says  Dr.  Johnson,  "should 
help  us  either  to  enjoy  life  or  to  endure  it."  Judged  by  this 
The  standard,  one  is  puzzled  what  to  recommend  among 

English  Johnson's  numerous  books.  The  two  things  which 
ary  belong  among  the  things  "worthy  to  be  remem- 
bered "  are  his  Dictionary  and  his  Lives  of  the  Poets,  though 
both  these  are  valuable,  not  as  literature,  but  rather  as  a  study 
of  literature.  The  Dictionary,  as  the  first  ambitious  attempt 
at  an  English  lexicon,  is  extremely  valuable,  notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  his  derivations  are  often  faulty,  and  that  he  fre- 
quently exercises  his  humor  or  prejudice  in  his  curious  defini- 
tions. In  defining  "oats,"  for  example,  as  a  grain  given  in 
England  to  horses  and  in  Scotland  to  the  people,  he  indulges 


292  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

his  prejudice  against  the  Scotch,  whom  he  never  understood, 
just  as,  in  his  definition  of  "pension,"  he  takes  occasion  to 
rap  the  writers  who  had  flattered  their  patrons  since  the  days 
of  Elizabeth ;  though  he  afterwards  accepted  a  comfortable 
pension  for  himself.  With  characteristic  honesty  he  refused 
to  alter  his  definition  in  subsequent  editions  of  the  Dictionary. 

The  Lives  of  the  Poets  are  the  simplest  and  most  readable 
of  his  literary  works.  For  ten  years  before  beginning  these 
Lives  of  biographies  he  had  given  himself  up  to  conversation, 
the  Poets  ancj  ^Q  ponderous  style  of  his  Rambler  essays 
here  gives  way  to  a  lighter  and  more  natural  expression.  As 
criticisms  they  are  often  misleading,  giving  praise  to  artificial 
poets,  like  Cowley  and  Pope,  and  doing  scant  justice  or  abun- 
dant injustice  to  nobler  poets  like  Gray  and  Milton  ;  and  they 
are  not  to  be  compared  with  those  found  in  Thomas  Warton's 
History  of  English  Poetry,  which  was  published  in  the  same 
generation.  As  biographies,  however,  they  are  excellent  read- 
ing, and  we  owe  to  them  some  of  our  best  known  pictures  of 
the  early  English  poets. 

Of  Johnson's  poems  the  reader  will  have  enough  if  he  glance 
over  "The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes."  His  only  story, 
Poems  and  Rasselas,  Prince  of  Abyssinia,  is  a  matter  of  rheto- 
Essays  rjc  rather  than  of  romance,  but  is  interesting  still 
to  the  reader  who  wants  to  hear  Johnson's  personal  views  of 
society,  philosophy,  and  religion.  Any  one  of  his  Essays,  like 
that  on  "Reading,"  or  "The  Pernicious  Effects  of  Revery," 
will  be  enough  to  acquaint  the  reader  with  the  Johnsonese 
style,  which  was  once  much  admired  and  copied  by  orators, 
but  which  happily  has  been  replaced  by  a  more  natural  way 
of  speaking.  Most  of  his  works,  it  must  be  confessed,  are 
rather  tiresome.  It  is  not  to  his  books,  but  rather  to  the 
picture  of  the  man  himself,  as  given  by  Boswell,  that  Johnson 
owes  his  great  place  in  our  literature. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  293 

BOSWELL'S  "  LIFE  OF  JOHNSON  " 

In  James  Boswell  (1740-1795)  we  have  another  extraordi- 
nary figure,  — a  shallow  little  Scotch  barrister,  who  trots  about 
like  a  dog  at  the  heels  of  his  big  master,  frantic  at  a  caress 
and  groveling  at  a  cuff,  and  abundantly  contented  if  only  he 
can  be  near  him  and  record  his  oracles.  All  his  life  long  Bos- 
well's  one  ambition  seems  to  have  been  to  shine  in  the  reflected 
glory  of  great  men,  and  his  chief  task  to  record  their  sayings 
and  doings.  When  he  came  to  London,  at  twenty-two  years 
of  age,  Johnson,  then  at  the  beginning  of  his  great  fame,  was 
to  this  insatiable  little  glory-seeker  like  a  Silver  Doctor  to  a 
hungry  trout.  He  sought  an  introduction  as  a  man  seeks 
gold,  haunted  every  place  where  Johnson  declaimed,  until  in 
Davies's  bookstore  the  supreme  opportunity  came.  This  is  his 
record  of  the  great  event : 

I  was  much  agitated  [says  Boswell]  and  recollecting  his  prejudice 
against  the  Scotch,  of  which  I  had  heard  much,  I  said  to  Davies, 
"Don't  tell  him  where  I  come  from."  "From  Scotland,"  cried  Davies 
roguishly.  "Mr.  Johnson,"  said  I,  "I  do  indeed  come  from  Scotland, 
but  I  cannot  help  it."  ..."  That,  sir  "  [cried  Johnson],  "  I  find  is  what  a 
very  great  many  of  your  countrymen  cannot  help."  This  stroke  stunned 
me  a  good  deal ;  and  when  we  had  sat  down  I  felt  myself  not  a  little 
embarrassed,  and  apprehensive  of  what  might  come  next. 

Then  for  several  years,  with  a  persistency  that  no  rebuffs 
could  abate,  and  with  a  thick  skin  that  no  amount  of  ridicule 
could  render  sensitive,  he  follows  Johnson ;  forces  his  way 
into  the  Literary  Club,  where  he  is  not  welcome,  in  order  to 
be  near  his  idol ;  carries  him  off  on  a  visit  to  the  Hebrides ; 
talks  with  him  on  every  possible  occasion  ;  and,  when  he  is 
not  invited  to  a  feast,  waits  outside  the  house  or  tavern  in 
order  to  walk  home  with  his  master  in  the  thick  fog  of  the 
early  morning.  And  the  moment  the  oracle  is  out  of  sight 
and  in  bed,  Boswell  patters  home  to  record  in  detail  all  that  he 
has  seen  and  heard.  It  is  to  his  minute  record  that  we  owe 
our  only  perfect  picture  of  a  great  man ;  all  his  vanity  as 


294  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

well  as  his  greatness,  his  prejudices,  superstitions,  and  even 
the  details  of  his  personal  appearance  : 

There  is  the  gigantic  body,  the  huge  face  seamed  with  the  scars  of 
disease,  the  brown  coat,  the  black  worsted  stockings,  the  gray  wig  with 
the  scorched  foretop,  the  dirty  hands,  the  nails  bitten  and  pared  to  the 
quick.  We  see  the  eyes  and  mouth  moving  with  convulsive  twitches ; 
we  see  the  heavy  form  rolling ;  we  hear  it  puffing ;  and  then  comes  the 
"Why,  sir!"  and  the  "What  then,  sir?"  and  the  "No,  sir!"  and  the 
"  You  don't  see  your  way  through  the  question,  sir  !  "  1 

To  Boswell's  record  we  are  indebted  also  for  our  knowledge 
of  those  famous  conversations,  those  wordy,  knockdown  battles, 
which  made  Johnson  famous  in  his  time  and  which  still  move 
us  to  wonder.  Here  is  a  specimen  conversation,  taken  almost 
at  random  from  a  hundred  such  in  Boswell's  incomparable 
biography.  After  listening  to  Johnson's  prejudice  against 
Scotland,  and  his  dogmatic  utterances  on  Voltaire,  Robertson, 
and  twenty  others,  an  unfortunate  theorist  brings  up  a  recent 
essay  on  the  possible  future  life  of  brutes,  quoting  some  pos- 
sible authority  from  the  sacred  scriptures  : 

Johnson,  who  did  not  like  to  hear  anything  concerning  a  future  state 
which  was  not  authorized  by  the  regular  canons  of  orthodoxy,  discour- 
aged this  talk ;  and  being  offended  at  its  continuation,  he  watched  an 
opportunity  to  give  the  gentleman  a  blow  of  reprehension.  So  when  the 
poor  speculatist,  with  a  serious,  metaphysical,  pensive  face,  addressed 
him,  "  But  really,  sir,  when  we  see  a  very  sensible  dog,  we  don't  know 
what  to  think  of  him";  Johnson,  rolling  with  joy  at  the  thought  which 
beamed  in  his  eye,  turned  quickly  round  and  replied,  "  True,  sir ;  and 
when  we  see  a  very  foolishy£//0w,  we  don't  know  what  to  think  of  him" 
He  then  rose  up,  strided  to  the  fire,  and  stood  for  some  time  laughing 
and  exulting. 

Then  the  oracle  proceeds  to  talk  of  scorpions  and  natural 
history,  denying  facts,  and  demanding  proofs  which  nobody 
could  possibly  furnish : 

He  seemed  pleased  to  talk  of  natural  philosophy.  "  That  woodcocks," 
said  he,  "  fly  over  the  northern  countries  is  proved,  because  they  have 
been  observed  at  sea.  Swallows  certainly  sleep  all  the  winter.  A  num- 

1  From  Macaulay's  review  of  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  295 

ber  of  them  conglobulate  together  by  flying  round  and  round,  and  then 
all  in  a  heap  throw  themselves  under  water  and  lie  in  the  bed  of  a  river." 
He  told  us  one  of  his  first  essays  was  a  Latin  poem  upon  the  glowworm : 
I  am  sorry  I  did  not  ask  where  it  was  to  be  found. 

Then  follows  an  astonishing  array  of  subjects  and  opinions. 
He  catalogues  libraries,  settles  affairs  in  China,  pronounces 
judgment  on  men  who  marry  women  superior  to  themselves, 
flouts  popular  liberty,  hammers  Swift  unmercifully,  and  adds 
a  few  miscellaneous  oracles,  most  of  which  are  about  as  reliable 
as  his  knowledge  of  the  hibernation  of  swallows. 

When  I  called  upon  Dr.  Johnson  next  morning  I  found  him  highly 
satisfied  with  his  colloquial  prowess  the  preceding  evening.  "  Well,"  said 
he,  "we  had  good  talk."  "Yes,  sir"  [says  I],  "you  tossed  and  gored  sev- 
eral persons." 

Far  from  resenting  this  curious  mental  dictatorship,  his 
auditors  never  seem  to  weary.  They  hang  upon  his  words, 
praise  him,  flatter  him,  repeat  his  judgments  all  over  London 
the  next  day,  and  return  in  the  evening  hungry  for  more. 
Whenever  the  conversation  begins  to  flag,  Boswell  is  like  a 
woman  with  a  parrot,  or  like  a  man  with  a  dancing  bear.  He 
must  excite  the  creature,  make  him  talk  or  dance  for  the  edi- 
fication of  the  company.  He  sidles  obsequiously  towards  his 
hero  and,  with  utter  irrelevancy,  propounds  a  question  of 
theology,  a  social  theory,  a  fashion  of  dress  or  marriage,  a 
philosophical  conundrum  :  "  Do  you  think,  sir,  that  natural 
affections  are  born  with  us  ? "  or,  "  Sir,  if  you  were  shut  up  in 
a  castle  and  a  newborn  babe  with  you,  what  would  you  do  ? " 
Then  follow  more  Johnsonian  laws,  judgments,  oracles  ;  the 
insatiable  audience  clusters  around  him  and  applauds  ;  while 
Boswell  listens,  with  shining  face,  and  presently  goes  home 
to  write  the  wonder  down.  It  is  an  astonishing  spectacle  ;  one 
does  not  know  whether  to  laugh  or  grieve  over  it.  But  we 
know  the  man,  and  the  audience,  almost  as  well  as  if  we  had 
been  there ;  and  that,  unconsciously,  is  the  superb  art  of  this 
matchless  biographer. 


296  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

When  Johnson  died  the  opportunity  came  for  which  Bos- 
well  had  been  watching  and  waiting  some  twenty  years.  He 
would  shine  in  the  world  now,  not  by  reflection,  but  by  his 
own  luminosity.  He  gathered  together  his  endless  notes  and 
records,  and  began  to  write  his  biography ;  but  he  did  not 
hurry.  Several  biographies  of  Johnson  appeared,  in  the  four 
years  after  his  death,  without  disturbing  Boswell's  perfect 
complacency.  After  seven  years'  labor  he  gave  the  world  his 
Life  of  Johnson.  It  is  an  immortal  work ;  praise  is  superfluous ; 
it  must  be  read  to  be  appreciated.  Like  the  Greek  sculptors, 
the  little  slave  produced  a  more  enduring  work  than  the  great 
master.  The  man  who  reads  it  will  know  Johnson  as  he  knows 
no  other  man  who  dwells  across  the  border ;  and  he  will  lack 
sensitiveness,  indeed,  if  he  lay  down  the  work  without  a  greater 
love  and  appreciation  of  all  good  literature. 

Later  Augustan  Writers.  With  Johnson,  who  succeeded 
Dryden  and  Pope  in  the  chief  place  of  English  letters,  the 
classic  movement  had  largely  spent  its  force ;  and  the  latter 
half  of  the  eighteenth  century  gives  us  an  imposing  array  of 
writers  who  differ  so  widely  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
classify  them.  In  general,  three  schools  of  writers  are  notice- 
able :  first,  the  classicists,  who,  under  Johnson's  lead,  insisted 
upon  elegance  and  regularity  of  style ;  second,  the  romantic 
poets,  like  Collins,  Gray,  Thomson,  and  Burns,  who  revolted 
from  Pope's  artificial  couplets  and  wrote  of  nature  and  the 
human  heart1;  third,  the  early  novelists,  like  Defoe  and 
Fielding,  who  introduced  a  new  type  of  literature.  The 
romantic  poets  and  the  novelists  are  reserved  for  special 
chapters  ;  and  of  the  other  writers  —  Berkeley  and  Hume  in 
philosophy  ;  Robertson,  Hume,  and  Gibbon  in  history  ;  Ches- 
terfield and  Lady  Montagu  in  letter  writing ;  Adam  Smith 

1  Many  of  the  writers  show  a  mingling  of  the  classic  and  the  romantic  tendencies. 
Thus  Goldsmith  followed  Johnson  and  opposed  the  romanticists;  but  his  Deserted 
Village  is  romantic  in  spirit,  though  its  classic  couplets  are  almost  as  mechanical  as 
Pope's.  So  Burke's  orations  are  "elegantly  classic"  in  style,  but  are  illumined  by  bursts 
of  emotion  and  romantic  feeling. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  297 

in  economics ;  Pitt,  Burke,  Fox,  and  a  score  of  lesser  writers 
in  politics  —  we  select  only  two,  Burke  and  Gibbon,  whose 
works  are  most  typical  of  the  Augustan,  i.e.  the  elegant,  classic 
style  of  prose  writing. 

EDMUND  BURKE  (1729-1797) 

To  read  all  of  Burke's  collected  works,  and  so  to  under- 
stand him  thoroughly,  is  something  of  a  task.  Few  are  equal 
to  it.  On  the  other  hand,  to  read  selections  here  and  there, 
as  most  of  us  do,  is  to  get  a  wrong  idea  of  the  man  and  to 
join  either  in  fulsome  praise  of  his  brilliant  oratory,  or  in 
honest  confession  that  his  periods  are  ponderous  and  his 
ideas  often  buried  under  Johnsonian  verbiage.  Such  are  the 
contrasts  to  be  found  on  successive  pages  of  Burke's  twelve 
volumes,  which  cover  the  enormous  range  of  the  political  and 
economic  thought  of  the  age,  and  which  mingle  fact  and  fancy, 
philosophy,  statistics,  and  brilliant  flights  of  the  imagination, 
to  a  degree  never  before  seen  in  English  literature.  For  Burke 
belongs  in  spirit  to  the  new  romantic  school,  while  in  style 
he  is  a  model  for  the  formal  classicists.  We  can  only  glance 
at  the  life  of  this  marvelous  Irishman,  and  then  consider  his 
place  in  our  literature. 

Life.  Burke  was  born  in  Dublin,  the  son  of  an  Irish  barrister,  in 
1729.  After  his  university  course  in  Trinity  College  he  came  to 
London  to  study  law,  but  soon  gave  up  the  idea  to  follow  literature, 
which  in  turn  led  him  to  politics.  He  had  the  soul,  the  imagination 
of  a  poet,  and  the  law  was  only  a  clog  to  his  progress.  His  two  first 
works,  A  Vindication  of  Natural  Society  and  The  Origin  of  our 
Ideas  of  the  Sublime  and  the  Beautiful,  brought  him  political  as  well 
as  literary  recognition,  and  several  small  offices  were  in  turn  given 
to  him.  When  thirty-six  years  old  he  was  elected  to  Parliament  as 
member  from  Wendover ;  and  for  the  next  thirty  years  he  was  the 
foremost  figure  in  the  House  of  Commons  and  the  most  eloquent 
orator  which  that  body  has  ever  known.  Pure  and  incorruptible  in 
his  politics  as  in  his  personal  life,  no  more  learned  or  devoted 
servant  of  the  Commonwealth  ever  pleaded  for  justice  and  human 


298  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

liberty.  He  was  at  the  summit  of  his  influence  at  the  time  when  the 
colonies  were  struggling  for  independence;  and  the  fact  that  he 
championed  their  cause  in  one  of  his  greatest  speeches,  "  On  Con- 
ciliation with  America,"  gives  him  an  added  interest  in  the  eyes  of 
American  readers.  His  championship  of  America  is  all  the  more 
remarkable  from  the  fact  that,  in  other  matters,  Burke  was  far  from 
liberal.  He  set  himself  squarely  against  the  teachings  of  the  roman- 
tic writers,  who  were  enthusiastic  over  the  French  Revolution;  he 
denounced  the  principles  of  the  Revolutionists,  broke  with  the  lib- 
eral Whig  party  to  join  the  Tories,  and  was  largely  instrumental  in 
bringing  on  the  terrible  war  with  France,  which  resulted  in  the 
downfall  of  Napoleon. 

It  is  good  to  remember  that,  in  all  the  strife  and  bitterness  of 
party  politics,  Burke  held  steadily  to  the  noblest  personal  ideals  of 
truth  and  honesty ;  and  that  in  all  his  work,  whether  opposing  the 
slave  trade,  or  pleading  for  justice  for  America,  or  protecting  the 
poor  natives  of  India -from  the  greed  of  corporations,  or  setting 
himself  against  the  popular  sympathy  for  France  in  her  desperate 
struggle,  he  aimed  solely  at  the  welfare  of  humanity.  When  he  re- 
tired on  a  pension  in  1794,  he  had  won,  and  he  deserved,  the  grati- 
tude and  affection  of  the  whole  nation. 

Works.  There  are  three  distinctly  marked  periods  in 
Burke's  career,  and  these  correspond  closely  to  the  years  in 
which  he  was  busied  with  the  affairs  of  America,  India,  and 
France  successively.  The  first  period  was  one  of  prophecy. 
He  had  studied  tbe  history  and  temper  of  the  American  col- 
onies, and  he  warned  England  of  the  disaster  which  must 
follow  her  persistence  in  ignoring  the  American  demands, 
and  especially  the  American  spirit.  His  great  speeches,  "  On 
American  Taxation"  and  "On  Conciliation  with  America," 
were  delivered  in  1774  and  1775,  preceding  the  Declaration 
of  Independence.  In  this  period  Burke's  labor  seemed  all  in 
vain  ;  he  lost  his  cause,  and  England  her  greatest  colony. 

The  second  period  is  one  of  denunciation  rather  than  of 
prophecy.  England  had  won  India  ;  but  wben  Burke  studied 
the  methods  of  her  victory  and  understood  tbe  soulless  way 
in  which  millions  of  poor  natives  were  made  to  serve  the 


EDMUND    BURKE 
From  an  old  print 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  299 

interests  of  an  English  monopoly,  his  soul  rose  in  revolt,  and 
again  he  was  the  champion  of  an  oppressed  people.  His  two 
greatest  speeches  of  this  period  are  "The  Nabob  of  Arcot's 
Debts  "  and  his  tremendous  "  Impeachment  of  Warren  Hast- 
ings." Again  he  apparently  lost  his  cause,  though  he  was  still 
fighting  on  the  side  of  right.  Hastings  was  acquitted,  and  the 
spoliation  of  India  went  on  ;  but  the  seeds  of  reform  were  sown, 
and  grew  and  bore  fruit  long  after  Burke' s  labors  were  ended. 

The  third  period  is,  curiously  enough,  one  of  reaction. 
Whether  because  the  horrors  of  the  French  Revolution  had 
frightened  him  with  the  danger  of  popular  liberty,  or  because 
his  own  advance  in  office  and  power  had  made  him  side  un- 
consciously with  the  upper  classes,  is  unknown.  That  he  was 
as  sincere  and  noble  now  as  in  all  his  previous  life  is  not 
questioned.  He  broke  with  the  liberal  Whigs  and  joined 
forces  with  the  reactionary  Tories.  He  opposed  the  romantic 
writers,  who  were  on  fire  with  enthusiasm  over  the  French 
Revolution,  and  thundered  against  the  dangers  which  the 
revolutionary  spirit  must  breed,  forgetting  that  it  was  a  revo- 
lution which  had  made  modern  England  possible.  Here,  where 
we  must  judge  him  to  have  been  mistaken  in  his  cause,  he 
succeeded  for  the  first  time.  It  was  due  largely  to  Burke's 
influence  that  the  growing  sympathy  for  the  French  people 
was  checked  in  England,  and  war  was  declared,  which  ended 
in  the  frightful  victories  of  Trafalgar  and  Waterloo. 

Burke's  best  known  work  of  this  period  is  his  Reflections 
on  the  French  Revolution,  which  he  polished  and  revised  again 
Essay  on  ar|d  again  before  it  was  finally  printed.  This  am- 
Revoiution  bitious  literary  essay,  though  it  met  with  remark- 
able success,  is  a  disappointment  to  the  reader.  Though  of 
Celtic  blood,  Burke  did  not  understand  the  French,  or  the 
principles  for  which  the  common  people  were  fighting  in  their 
own  way 1 ;  and  his  denunciations  and  apostrophes  to  France 

1  A  much  more  interesting  work  is  Thomas  Paine's  Rights  of  Man,  which  was  written 
in  answer  to  Burke's  essay,  and  which  had  enormous  influence  in  England  and  America. 


300  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

suggest  a  preacher  without  humor,  hammering  away  at  sinners 
who  are  not  present  in  his  congregation.  The  essay  has  few 
illuminating  ideas,  but  a  great  deal  of  Johnsonian  rhetoric, 
which  make  its  periods  tiresome,  notwithstanding  our  admira- 
tion for  the  brilliancy  of  its  author.  More  significant  is  one  of 
Burke's  first  essays,  A  Philosophical  Inquiry  Into  the  Origin 
of  Our  Ideas  of  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful,  which  is  sometimes 
read  in  order  to  show  the  contrast  in  style  with  Addison's 
Spectator  essays  on  the  "  Pleasures  of  the  Imagination." 

Burke's  best  known  speeches,  "On  Conciliation  with 
America,"  "  American  Taxation,"  and  the  "  Impeachment  of 
Burke's  Warren  Hastings,"  are  still  much  studied  in  our 
Orations  schools  as  models  of  English  prose ;  and  this  fact 
tends  to  give  them  an  exaggerated  literary  importance.  Viewed 
purely  as  literature,  they  have  faults  enough  ;  and  the  first 
of  these,  so  characteristic  of  the  Classic  Age,  is  that  they 
abound  in  fine  rhetoric  but  lack  simplicity.1  In  a  strict  sense, 
these  eloquent  speeches  are  not  literature,  to  delight  the 
reader  and  to  suggest  ideas,  but  studies  in  rhetoric  and  in 
mental  concentration.  All  this,  however,  is  on  the  surface. 
A  careful  study  of  any  of  these  three  famous  speeches  reveals 
certain  admirable  qualities  which  account  for  the  important 
place  they  are  given  in  the  study  of  English.  First,  as  show- 
ing the  stateliness  and  the  rhetorical  power  of  our  language, 
these  speeches  are  almost  unrivaled.  Second,  though  Burke 
speaks  in  prose,  he  is  essentially  a  poet,  whose  imagery,  like 
that  of  Milton's  prose  works,  is  more  remarkable  than  that  of 
many  of  our  writers  of  verse.  He  speaks  in  figures,  images, 
symbols  ;  and  the  musical  cadence  of  his  sentences  reflects 

1  In  the  same  year,  1775,  in  which  Burke's  magnificent  "  Conciliation"  oration  was 
delivered,  Patrick  Henry  made  a  remarkable  little  speech  before  a  gathering  of  delegates 
in  Virginia.  Both  men  were  pleading  the  same  cause  of  justice,  and  were  actuated  by  the 
same  high  ideals.  A  very  interesting  contrast,  however,  may  be  drawn  between  the  meth- 
ods and  the  effects  of  Henry's  speech  and  of  Burke's  more  brilliant  oration.  Burke 
makes  us  wonder  at  his  learning,  his  brilliancy,  his  eloquence ;  but  he  does  not  move 
us  to  action.  Patrick  Henry  calls  us,  and  we  spring  to  follow  him.  That  suggests  the 
essential  difference  between  the  two  orators. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  301 

the  influence  of  his  wide  reading  of  poetry.  Not  only  in 
figurative  expression,  but  much  more  in  spirit,  be  belongs 
with  the  poets  of  the  revival.  At  times  his  language  is 
pseudo-classic,  reflecting  the  influence  of  Johnson  and  his 
school ;  but  his  thought  is  always  romantic ;  he  is  governed 
by  ideal  rather  than  by  practical  interests,  and  a  profound  sym- 
pathy for  humanity  is  perhaps  his  most  marked  characteristic. 

Third,  the  supreme  object  of  these  orations,  so  different 
from  the  majority  of  political  speeches,  is  not  to  win  approval 
or  to  gain  votes,  but  to  establish  the  truth.  Like  our  own 
Lincoln,  Burke  had  a  superb  faith  in  the  compelling  power  of 
the  truth,  a  faith  in  men  also,  who,  if  the  history  of  our  race 
means  anything,  will  not  willingly  follow  a  lie.  The  methods 
of  these  two  great  leaders  are  strikingly  similar  in  this  respect, 
that  each  repeats  his  idea  in  many  ways,  presenting  the  truth 
from  different  view  points,  so  that  it  will  appeal  to  men  of 
widely  different  experiences.  Otherwise  the  two  men  are  in 
marked  contrast.  The  uneducated  Lincoln  speaks  in  simple, 
homely  words,  draws  his  illustrations  from  the  farm,  and  often 
adds  a  humorous  story,  so  apt  and  "telling"  that  his  hearers 
can  never  forget  the  point  of  his  argument.  The  scholarly 
Burke  speaks  in  ornate,  majestic  periods,  and  searches  all 
history  and  all  literature  for  his  illustrations.  His  wealth  of 
imagery  and  allusions,  together  with  his  rare  combination  of 
poetic  and  logical  reasoning,  make  these  orations  remarkable, 
entirely  apart  from  their  subject  and  purpose. 

Fourth  (and  perhaps  most  significant  of  the  man  and  his 
work),  Burke  takes  his  stand  squarely  upon  the  principle  of 
justice.  He  has  studied  history,  and  he  finds  that  to  estab- 
lish justice,  between  man  and  man  and  between  nation  and 
nation,  has  been  the  supreme  object  of  every  reformer  since  the 
world  began.  No  small  or  merely  temporary  success  attracts 
him  ;  only  the  truth  will  suffice  for  an  argument ;  and  noth- 
ing less  than  justice  will  ever  settle  a  question  permanently. 
Such  is  his  platform,  simple  as  the  Golden  Rule,  unshakable 


302  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

as  the  moral  law.  Hence,  though  he  apparently  fails  of  his 
immediate  desire  in  each  of  these  three  orations,  the  principle 
for  which  he  contends  cannot  fail.  As  a  modern  writer  says 
of  Lincoln,  "  The  full,  rich  flood  of  his  life  through  the  nation's 
pulse  is  yet  beating";  and  his  words  are  still  potent  in  shaping 
the  course  of  English  politics  in  the  way  of  justice. 

EDWARD  GIBBON  (1737-1/94) 

To  understand  Burke  or  Johnson,  one  must  read  a  multi- 
tude of  books  and  be  wary  in  his  judgment ;  but  with  Gibbon 
the  task  is  comparatively  easy,  for  one  has  only  to  consider 
two  books,  his  Memoirs  and  the  first  volume  of  his  History, 
to  understand  the  author.  In  his  Memoirs  we  have  an  inter- 
esting reflection  of  Gibbon's  own  personality,  —  a  man  who 
looks  with  satisfaction  on  the  material  side  of  things,  who 
seeks  always  the  easiest  path  for  himself,  and  avoids  life's 
difficulties  and  responsibilities.  "  I  sighed  as  a  lover ;  but  I 
obeyed  as  a  son,"  he  says,  when,  to  save  his  inheritance,  he 
gave  up  the  woman  he  loved  and  came  home  to  enjoy  the 
paternal  loaves  and  fishes.  That  is  suggestive  of  the  man's 
whole  life.  His  History,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  remarkable 
work.  It  was  the  first  in  our  language  to  be  written  on  scien- 
tific principles,  and  with  a  solid  basis  of  fact ;  and  the  style  is 
the  very  climax  of  that  classicism  which  had  ruled  England  for 
an  entire  century.  Its  combination  of  historical  fact  and  literary 
style  makes  The  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  the  one 
thing  of  Gibbon's  life  that  is  "worthy  to  be  remembered." 

Gibbon's  History.  For  many  years  Gibbon  had  meditated, 
like  Milton,  upon  an  immortal  work,  and  had  tried  several 
historical  subjects,  only  to  give  them  up  idly.  In  \i\^>  Journal 
he  tells  us  how  his  vague  resolutions  were  brought  .to  a  focus  : 

It  was  at  Rome,  on  the  fifteenth  of  October,  1764,  as  I  sat  musing 
amidst  the  ruins  of  the  Capitol,  while  the  barefooted  friars  were  singing 
vespers  in  the  Temple  of  Jupiter,  that  the  idea  of  writing  the  decline  and 
fall  of  the  city  first  started  to  my  mind. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  303 

Twelve  years  later,  in  1776,  Gibbon  published  the  first  vol- 
ume of  The  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  ;  and  the 
enormous  success  of  the  work  encouraged  him  to  go  on  with 
the  other  five  volumes,  which  were  published  at  intervals 
during  the  next  twelve  years.  The  History  begins  with  the 
reign  of  Trajan,  in  A.D.  98,  and  "builds  a  straight  Roman 
road  "  through  the  confused  histories  of  thirteen  centuries, 
ending  with  the  fall  of  the  Byzantine  Empire  in  1453.  The 
scope  of  the  History  is  enormous.  It  includes  not  only 
the  decline  of  the  Roman  Empire,  but  such  movements  as  the 
descent  of  the  northern  barbarians,  the  spread  of  Christianity, 
the  reorganization  of  the  European  nations,  the  establishment 
of  the  great  Eastern  Empire,  the  rise  of  Mohammedanism, 
and  the  splendor  of  the  Crusades.  On  the  one  hand  it  lacks 
philosophical  insight,  being  satisfied  with  facts  without  com- 
prehending the  causes ;  and,  as  Gibbon  seems  lacking  in 
ability  to  understand  spiritual  and  religious  movements,  it  is 
utterly  inadequate  in  its  treatment  of  the  tremendous  influ- 
ence of  Christianity.  On  the  other  hand,  Gibbon's  scholar- 
ship leaves  little  to  criticise ;  he  read'  enormously,  sifted  his 
facts  out  of  multitudes  of  books  and  records,  and  then  mar- 
shaled them  in  the  imposing  array  with  which  we  have  grown 
familiar.  Moreover,  he  is  singularly  just  and  discriminating 
in  the  use  of  all  documents  and  authorities  at  his  command. 
Hence  he  has  given  us  the  first  history  in  English  that  has 
borne  successfully  the  test  of  modern  research  and  scholarship. 

The  style  of  the  work  is  as  imposing  as  his  great  subject. 
Indeed,  with  almost  any  other  subject  the  sonorous  roll  of  his 
majestic  sentences  would  be  out  of  place.  While  it  deserves 
all  the  adjectives  that  have  been  applied  to  it  by  enthusiastic 
admirers,  —  finished,  elegant,  splendid,  rounded,  massive,  sono- 
rous, copious,  elaborate,  ornate,  exhaustive,  —  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, though  one  whispers  the  confession,  that  the  style 
sometimes  obscures  our  interest  in  the  narrative.  As  he 
sifted  his  facts  from  a  multitude  of  sources,  so  he  often  hides 


304  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

them  again  in  endless  periods,  and  one  must  often  sift  them 
out  again  in  order  to  be  quite  sure  of  even  the  simple  facts. 
Another  drawback  is  that  Gibbon  is  hopelessly  worldly  in  his 
point  of  view ;  he  loves  pageants  and  crowds  rather  than  in- 
dividuals, and  he  is  lacking  in  enthusiasm  and  in  spiritual 
insight.  The  result  is  so  frankly  material  at  times  that  one 
wonders  if  he  is  not  reading  of  forces  or  machines,  rather 
than  of  human  beings.  A  little  reading  of  his  History  here 
and  there  is  an  excellent  thing,  leaving  one  impressed  with 
the  elegant  classical  style  and  the  scholarship ;  but  a  contin- 
ued reading  is  very  apt  to  leave  us  longing  for  simplicity,  for 
naturalness,  and,  above  all,  for  the  glow  of  enthusiasm  which 
makes  the  dead  heroes  live  once  more  in  the  written  pages. 

This  judgment,  however,  must  not  obscure  the  fact  that 
the  book  had  a  remarkably  large  sale  ;  and  that  this,  of  itself, 
is  an  evidence  that  multitudes  of  readers  found  it  not  only 
erudite,  but  readable  and  interesting. 

II.    THE  REVIVAL  OF  ROMANTIC  POETRY 

The  old  order  changeth,  yielding  place  to  new ; 

And  God  fulfills  Himself  in  many  ways, 

Lest  one  good  custom  should  corrupt  the  world. 

Tennyson's  "  The  Passing  of  Arthur." 

The  Meaning  of  Romanticism.  While  Dryden,  Pope,  and 
Johnson  were  successively  the  dictators  of  English  letters, 
and  while,  under  their  leadership,  the  heroic  couplet  became 
the  fashion  of  poetry,  and  literature  in  general  became  satiric 
or  critical  in  spirit,  and  formal  in  expression,  a  new  romantic 
movement  quietly  made  its  appearance.  Thomson's  The 
Seasons  (1730)  was  the  first  noteworthy  poem  of  the  roman- 
tic revival ;  and  the  poems  and  the  poets  increased  steadily  in 
number  and  importance  till,  in  the  age  of  Wordsworth  and 
Scott,  the  spirit  of  Romanticism  dominated  our  literature 
more  completely  than  Classicism  had  ever  done.  This  romantic 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  305 

movement  —  which  Victor  Hugo  calls  "liberalism  in  literature" 
—  is  simply  the  expression  of  life  as  seen  by  imagination, 
rather  than  by  prosaic  "common  sense,"  which  was  the  cen- 
tral doctrine  of  English  philosophy  in  the  eighteenth  century. 
It  has  six  prominent  characteristics  which  distinguish  it  from 
the  so-called  classic  literature  which  we  have  just  studied  : 

1.  The  romantic  movement  was  marked,   and  is  always 
marked,  by  a  strong  reaction  and  protest  against  the  bondage 
of  rule  and  custom,  which,  in  science  and  theology,  as  well  as 
in  literature,  generally  tend  to  fetter  the  free  human  spirit. 

2.  Romanticism  returned  to  nature  and  to  plain  humanity 
for  its  material,  and  so  is  in  marked  contrast  to  Classicism, 
which  had  confined  itself  largely  to  the  clubs  and  drawing- 
rooms,  and  to  the  social  and  political  life  of  London.    Thom- 
son's Seasons ;  whatever  its  defects,  was  a  revelation  of  the 
natural  wealth  and  beauty  which,  for  nearly  a  century,  had 
been  hardly  noticed  by  the  great  writers  of  England. 

3.  It  brought  again  the  dream  of  a  golden  age 1  in  which  the 
stern  realities  of  life  were  forgotten  and  the  ideals  of  youth 
were  established  as  the  only  permanent  realities.     "  For  the 
dreamer  lives  forever,  but  the  toiler  dies  in  a  day,"  expresses, 
perhaps,  only  the  wild  fancy  of  a  modern  poet ;  but,  when  we 
think  of  it  seriously,  the  dreams  and  ideals  of  a  people  are 
cherished  possessions  long  after  their  stone  monuments  have 
crumbled  away  and  their  battles  are  forgotten.    The  romantic 
movement    emphasized   these   eternal    ideals  of   youth,   and 
appealed  to  the  human  heart  as  the  classic  elegance  of  Dryden 
and  Pope  could  never  do. 

4.  Romanticism  was  marked  by  intense  human  sympathy, 
and  by  a  consequent  understanding  of  the  human  heart.    Not 
to  intellect  or  to  science  does  the  heart  unlock  its  treasures, 
but  rather  to  the  touch  of  a  sympathetic  nature ;  and  things 
that  are  hidden  from  the  wise  and  prudent  are  revealed  unto 

1  The  romantic  revival  is  marked  by  renewed  interest  in  mediaeval  ideals  and  litera- 
ture ;  and  to  this  interest  is  due  the  success  of  Walpole's  romance,  The  Castle  of  Otranto, 
and  of  Chatterton's  forgeries  known  as  the  Rowley  Papers. 


306  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

children.  Pope  had  no  appreciable  humanity  ;  Swift's  work  is 
a  frightful  satire ;  Addison  delighted  polite  society,  but  had 
no  message  for  plain  people  ;  while  even  Johnson,  with  all  his 
kindness,  had  no  feeling  for  men  in  the  mass,  but  supported 
Sir  Robert  Walpole  in  his  policy  of  letting  evils  alone  until 
forced  by  a  revolution  to  take  notice  of  humanity's  appeal. 
With  the  romantic  revival  all  this  was  changed.  While  How- 
ard was  working  heroically  for  prison  reform,  and  Wilberforce 
for  the  liberation  of  the  slaves,  Gray  wrote  his  "short  and 
simple  annals  of  the  poor,"  and  Goldsmith  his  Deserted  Village, 
and  Cowper  sang, 

My  ear  is  pained, 

My  soul  is  sick  with  every  day's  report 

Of  wrong  and  outrage  with  which  earth  is  filled. 

There  is  no  flesh  in  man's  obdurate  heart, 

It  does  not  feel  for  man.1 

This  sympathy  for  the  poor,  and  this  cry  against  oppression, 
grew  stronger  and  stronger  till  it  culminated  in  "  Bobby " 
Burns,  who,  more  than  any  other  writer  in  any  language,  is 
the  poet  of  the  unlettered  human  heart. 

5.  The  romantic  movement  was  the  expression  of  individual 
genius  rather  than  of  established  rules.  In  consequence,  the 
literature  of  the  revival  is  as  varied  as  the  characters  and 
moods  of  the  different  writers.  When  we  read  Pope,  for 
instance,  we  have  a  general  impression  of  sameness,  as  if  all 
his  polished  poems  were  made  in  the  same  machine ;  but  in 
the  work  of  the  best  romanticists  there  is  endless  variety. 
To  read  them  is  like  passing  through  a  new  village,  meeting 
a  score  of  different  human  types,  and  finding  in  each  one 
something  to  love  or  to  remember.  Nature  and  the  heart  of 
man  are  as  new  as  if  we  had  never  studied  them.  Hence,  in 
reading  the  romanticists,  who  went  to  these  sources  for  their 
material,  we  are  seldom  wearied  but  often  surprised ;  and  the 
surprise  is  like  that  of  the  sunrise,  or  the  sea,  which  always 

1  From  The  Task,  Book  II. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  307 

offers  some  new  beauty  and  stirs  us  deeply,  as  if  we  had 
never  seen  it  before. 

6.  The  romantic  movement,  while  it  followed  its  own 
genius,  was  not  altogether  unguided.  Strictly  speaking,  there 
is  no  new  movement  either  in  history  or  in  literature ;  each 
grows  out  of  some  good  thing  which  has  preceded  it,  and 
looks  back  with  reverence  to  past  masters.  Spenser,  Shake- 
speare, and  Milton  were  the  inspiration  of  the  romantic 
revival ;  and  we  can  hardly  read  a  poem  of  the  early  roman- 
ticists without  finding  a  suggestion  of  the  influence  of  one  of 
these  great  leaders.1 

There  are  various  other  characteristics  of  Romanticism, 
but  these  six  —  the  protest  against  the  bondage  of  rules,  the 
return  to  nature  and  the  human  heart,  the  interest  in  old 
sagas  and  mediaeval  romances  as  suggestive  of  a  heroic  age, 
the  sympathy  for  the  toilers  of  the  world,  the  emphasis  upon 
individual  genius,  and  the  return  to  Milton  and  the  Eliza- 
bethans, instead  of  to  Pope  and  Dryden,  for  literary  models 
—  are  the  most  noticeable  and  the  most  interesting.  Remem- 
bering them,  we  shall  better  appreciate  the  work  of  the  fol- 
lowing writers  who,  in  varying  degree,  illustrate  the  revival 
of  romantic  poetry  in  the  eighteenth  century. 

THOMAS  GRAY  (1716-1771) 

The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day ; 
The  lowing  herd  wind  slowly  o'er  the  lea ; 
The  plowman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way, 
And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  to  me. 

Now  fades  the  glimmering  landscape  on  the  sight, 
And  all  the  air  a  solemn  stillness  holds, 
Save  where  the  beetle  wheels  his  droning  flight, 
And  drowsy  tinklings  lull  the  distant  folds. 

So  begins  "the  best  known  poem  in  the  English  language/1 
a  poem  full  of  the  gentle  melancholy  which  marks  all  early 

1  See,  for  instance,  Phelps,  Beginnings  of  the  Romantic  Movement,  for  a  list  of 
Spenserian  imitators  from  1700  to  1775. 


308  ENGLISH   LITERATURE 

romantic  poetry.  It  should  be  read  entire,  as  a  perfect  model 
of  its  kind.  Not  even  Milton's  "II  Penseroso,"  which  it 
strongly  suggests,  excels  it  in  beauty  and  suggestiveness. 

Life  of  Gray.  The  author  of  the  famous  "  Elegy  "  is  the  most 
scholarly  and  well-balanced  of  all  the  early  romantic  poets.  In  his 
youth  he  was  a  weakling,  the  only  one  of  twelve  children  who  sur- 
vived infancy ;  and  his  unhappy  childhood,  the  tyranny  of  his  father, 
and  the  separation  from  his  loved  mother,  gave  to  his  whole  life  the 
stamp  of  melancholy  which  is  noticeable  in  all  his  poems.  At  the 
famous  Eton  school,  and  again  at  Cambridge,  he  seems  to  have  fol- 
lowed his  own  scholarly  tastes  rather 
<&7~~r5S^  tnan  tne  curriculum,  and  was  shocked, 

like  Gibbon,  at  the  general  idleness 
and  aimlessness  of  university  life.  One 
happy  result  of  his  school  life  was  his 
friendship  for  Horace  Walpole,  who  took 
him  abroad  for  a  three  years'  tour  of  the 
Continent. 

No  better  index  of  the  essential  differ- 
ence between  the  classical  and  the  new 
romantic  school  can  be  imagined  than 
that  which  is  revealed  in  the  letters  of 
Gray  and  Addison,  as  they  record  their 
THOMAS  GRAY  impressions  of  foreign  travel.  Thus,  when 

Addison  crossed  the  Alps,  some  twenty- 
five  years  before,  in  good  weather,  he  wrote :  "A  very  troublesome 
journey.  .  .  .  You  cannot  imagine  how  I  am  pleased  with  the  sight 
of  a  plain."  Gray  crossed  the  Alps  in  the  beginning  of  winter, 
"  wrapped  in  muffs,  hoods  and  masks  of  beaver,  fur  boots,  and  bear- 
skins," but  wrote  ecstatically, "  Not  a  precipice,  not  a  torrent,  not  a 
cliff  but  is  pregnant  with  religion  and  poetry." 

On  his  return  to  England,  Gray  lived  for  a  short  time  at  Stoke 
Poges,  where  he  wrote  his  "  Ode  on  Eton,"  and  probably  sketched 
his  "  Elegy,"  which,  however,  was  not  finished  till  1750,  eight  years 
later.  During  the  latter  years  of  his  shy  and  scholarly  life  he  was 
Professor  of  Modern  History  and  Languages  at  Cambridge,  without 
any  troublesome  work  of  lecturing  to  students.  Here  he  gave  him- 
self up  to  study  and  to  poetry,  varying  his  work  by  "  prowlings  " 
among  the  manuscripts  of  the  new  British  Museum,  and  by  his 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE 


309 


M  Lilliputian  "  travels  in  England  and  Scotland.  He  died  in  his 
rooms  at  Pembroke  College  in  1771,  and  was  buried  in  the  little 
churchyard  of  Stoke  Poges. 

Works  of  Gray.  Gray's  Letters,  published  in  1775,  are 
excellent  reading,  and  his  Journal  is  still  a  model  of  natural 
description  ;  but  it  is  to  a  single  small  volume  of  poems  that 
he  owes  his  fame  and  his  place  in  literature.  These  poems 
divide  themselves  naturally  into  three  periods,  in  which  we 
may  trace  the  progress  of  Gray's  emancipation  from  the 

f 


CHURCH  AT  STOKE  POGES 

classic  rules  which  had  so  long  governed  English  literature. 
In  the  first  period  he  wrote  several  minor  poems,  of  which 
the  best  are  his  "Hymn  to  Adversity"  and  the  odes  "To 
Spring"  and  "On  a  Distant  Prospect  of  Eton  College." 
These  early  poems  reveal  two  suggestive  things :  first,  the 
appearance  of  that  melancholy  which  characterizes  all  the 
poetry  of  the  period  ;  and  second,  the  study  of  nature,  not  for 
its  own  beauty  or  truth,  but  rather  as  a  suitable  background 
for  the  play  of  human  emotions. 

The  second  period  shows  the  same  tendencies  more  strongly 
developed.    The  "  Elegy  Written  in  a  Country  Churchyard  " 


310  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

(1750),  the  most  perfect  poem  of  the  age,  belongs  to  this 
period.  To  read  Milton's  "  II  Penseroso  "  and  Gray's  "  Elegy  " 
is  to  see  the  beginning  and  the  perfection  of  that  "literature 
of  melancholy "  which  largely  occupied  English  poets  for 
more  than  a  century.  Two  other  well-known  poems  of  this 
second  period  are  the  Pindaric  odes,  "The  Progress  of  Poesy  " 
and  "  The  Bard."  The  first  is  strongly  suggestive  of  Dryden's 
"Alexander's  Feast,"  but  shows  Milton's  influence  in  a  greater 
melody  and  variety  of  expression.  "  The  Bard  "  is,  in  every 
way,  more  romantic  and  original.  An  old  minstrel,  the  last  of 
the  Welsh  singers,  halts  King  Edward  and  his  army  in  a  wild 
mountain  pass,  and  with  fine  poetic  frenzy  prophesies  the  terror 
and  desolation  which  must  ever  follow  the  tyrant.  From  its 
first  line,  "  Ruin  seize  thee,  ruthless  King !  "  to  the  end,  when 
the  old  bard  plunges  from  his  lofty  crag  and  disappears  in  the 
river's  flood,  the  poem  thrills  with  the  fire  of  an  ancient  and 
noble  race  of  men.  It  breaks  absolutely  with  the  classical 
school  and  proclaims  a  literary  declaration  of  independence. 

In  the  third  period  Gray  turns  momentarily  from  his  Welsh 
material  and  reveals  a  new  field  of  romantic  interest  in  two 
Norse  poems,  "The  Fatal  Sisters"  and  "The  Descent  of 
Odin"  (1761).  Gray  translated  his  material  from  the  Latin, 
and  though  these  two  poems  lack  much  of  the  elemental 
strength  and  grandeur  of  the  Norse  sagas,  they  are  remark- 
able for  calling  attention  to  the  unused  wealth  of  literary 
material  that  was  hidden  in  Northern  mythology.  To  Gray 
and  to  Percy  (who  published  his  Northern  Antiquities  in 
1770)  is  due  in  large  measure  the  profound  interest  in  the 
old  Norse  sagas  which  has  continued  to  our  own  day. 
f.  Taken  together,  Gray's  works  form  a  most  interesting  com- 
mentary on  the  varied  life  of  the  eighteenth  century.  He  was 
a  scholar,  familiar  with  all  the  intellectual  interests  of  his  age, 
and  his  work  has  much  of  the  precision  and  polish  of  the  clas- 
sical school ;  but  he  shares  also  the  reawakened  interest  in 
nature,  in  common  man,  and  in  mediaeval  culture,  and  his 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE 


work  is  generally  romantic  both  in  style  and  in  spirit.  The 
same  conflict  between  the  classic  and  romantic  schools,  and 
the  triumph  of  Romanticism,  is  shown  clearly  in  the  most 
versatile  of  Gray's  contemporaries,  Oliver  Goldsmith. 

OLIVER  GOLDSMITH  (1728-1774) 

Because  The  Deserted  Village  is  one  of  the  most  familiar 
poems  in  our  language,  Goldsmith  is  generally  given  a  high 
place  among  the  poets  of  the  romantic  dawn.  But  the  Village, 
when  we  read  it  care- 
fully, turns  out  to  be  a 
rimed  essay  in  the  style 
of  Pope's  famous  Essay 
on  Man;  it  owes  its 
popularity  to  the  sympa- 
thetic memories  which  it 
awakens,  rather  than  to 
its  poetic  excellence.  It 
is  as  a  prose  writer  that 
Goldsmith  excels.  He  is 
an  essayist,  with  Addi- 
son's  fine  polish  but  with 
more  sympathy  for  hu- 
man life  ;  he  is  a  drama- 
tist, one  of  the  very  few 
who  have  ever  written  a 
comedy  that  can  keep 
its  popularity  unchanged 

while  a  century  rolls  over  its  head  ;  but  greater,  perhaps,  than 
the  poet  and  essayist  and  dramatist  is  Goldsmith  the  novelist, 
who  set  himself  to  the  important  work  of  purifying  the  early 
novel  of  its  brutal  and  indecent  tendencies,  and  who  has  given 
us,  in  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  one  of  the  most  enduring  char- 
acters in  English  fiction.  In  his  manner,  especially  in  his 
poetry,  Goldsmith  was  too  much  influenced  by  his  friend 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH 


312  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Johnson  and  the  classicists  ;  but  in  his  matter,  in  his  sympathy 
for  nature  and  human  life,  he  belongs  unmistakably  to  the  new 
romantic  school.  Altogether  he  is  the  most  versatile,  the  most 
charming,  the  most  inconsistent,  and  the  most  lovable  genius 
of  all  the  literary  men  who  made  famous  the  age  of  Johnson. 

Life.  Goldsmith's  career  is  that  of  an  irresponsible,  unbalanced 
genius,  which  would  make  one  despair  if  the  man  himself  did  not 
remain  so  lovable  in  all  his  inconsistencies.  He  was  born  in  the  vil- 
lage of  Pallas,  Ireland,  the  son  of  a  poor  Irish  curate  whose  noble 
character  is  portrayed  in  Dr.  Primrose,  of  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield, 
and  in  the  country  parson  of  The  Deserted  Village.  After  an  unsatis- 
factory course  in  various  schools,  where  he  was  regarded  as  hope- 
lessly stupid,  Goldsmith  entered  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  as  a  sizar, 
i.e.  a  student  who  pays  with  labor  for  his  tuition.  By  his  escapades 
he  was  brought  into  disfavor  with  the  authorities,  but  that  troubled 
him  little.  He  was  also  wretchedly  poor,  which  troubled  him  less ; 
for  when  he  earned  a  few  shillings  by  writing  ballads  for  street 
singers,  his  money  went  oftener  to  idle  beggars  than  to  the  paying 
of  his  honest  debts.  After  three  years  of  university  life  he  ran  away, 
in  dime-novel  fashion,  and  nearly  starved  to  death  before  he  was 
found  and  brought  back  in  disgrace.  Then  he  worked  a  little,  and 
obtained  his  degree  in  1749. 

Strange  that  such  an  idle  and  irresponsible  youth  should  have 
been  urged  by  his  family  to  take  holy  orders ;  but  such  was  the  fact. 
For  two  years  more  Goldsmith  labored  with  theology,  only  to  be 
rejected  when  he  presented  himself  as  a  candidate  for  the  ministry. 
He  tried  teaching,  and  failed.  Then  his  fancy  turned  to  America, 
and,  provided  with  money  and  a  good  horse,  he  started  off  for  Cork, 
where  he  was  to  embark  for  the  New  World.  He  loafed  along  the 
pleasant  Irish  ways,  missed  his  ship,  and  presently  turned  up  cheer- 
fully amongst  his  relatives,  minus  all  his  money,  and  riding  a  sorry 
nag  called  Fiddleback,  for  which  he  had  traded  his  own  on  the  way.1 
He  borrowed  fifty  pounds  more,  and  started  for  London  to  study  law, 
but  speedily  lost  his  money  at  cards,  and  again  appeared,  amiable 
and  irresponsible  as  ever,  among  his  despairing  relatives.  The  next 
year  they  sent  him  to  Edinburgh  to  study  medicine.  Here  for  a 
couple  of  years  he  became  popular  as  a  singer  of  songs  and  a  teller 

1  Such  is  Goldsmith's  version  of  a  somewhat  suspicious  adventure,  whose  details 
are  unknown. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  313 

of  tales,  to  whom  medicine  was  only  a  troublesome  affliction.  Sud- 
denly the  Wanderlust  seized  him  and  he  started  abroad,  ostensibly 
to  complete  his  medical  education,  but  in  reality  to  wander  like  a 
cheerful  beggar  over  Europe,  singing  and  playing  his  flute  for  food 
and  lodging.  He  may  have  studied  a  little  at  Leyden  and  at  Padua, 
but  that  was  only  incidental.  After  a  year  or  more  of  vagabondage 
he  returned  to  London  with  an  alleged  medical  degree,  said  to  have 
been  obtained  at  Louvain  or  Padua. 

The  next  few  years  are  a  pitiful  struggle  to  make  a  living  as 
tutor,  apothecary's  assistant,  comedian,  usher  in  a  country  school, 
and  finally  as  a  physician  in  Southwark.  Gradually  he  drifted  into 
literature,  and  lived  from  hand  to  mouth  by  doing  hack  work  for 
the  London  booksellers.  Some  of  his  essays  and  his  Citizen  of  the 
World  (1760-1761)  brought  him  to  the  attention  of  Johnson,  who 
looked  him  up,  was  attracted  first  by  his  poverty  and  then  by  his 
genius,  and  presently  declared  him  to  be  "  one  of  the  first  men  we 
now  have  as  an  author."  Johnson's  friendship  proved  invaluable, 
and  presently  Goldsmith  found  himself  a  member  of  the  exclusive 
Literary  Club.  He  promptly  justified  Johnson's  confidence  by  pub- 
lishing The  Traveller  (1764),  which  was  hailed  as  one  of  the  finest 
poems  of  the  century.  Money  now  came  to  him  liberally,  with  orders 
from  the  booksellers ;  he  took  new  quarters  in  Fleet  Street  and  fur- 
nished them  gorgeously ;  but  he  had  an  inordinate  vanity  for  bright- 
colored  clothes,  and  faster  than  he  earned  money  he  spent  it  on 
velvet  cloaks  and  in  indiscriminate  charity.  For  a  time  he  resumed 
his  practice  as  a  physician,  but  his  fine  clothes  did  not  bring  patients, 
as  he  expected ;  and  presently  he  turned  to  writing  again,  to  pay 
his  debts  to  the  booksellers.  He  produced  several  superficial  and 
grossly  inaccurate  schoolbooks,  —  like  his  Animated  Nature  and 
his  histories  of  England,  Greece,  and  Rome, — which  brought  him 
bread  and  more  fine  clothes,  and  his  Vicar  ofWakefield,  The  Deserted 
Village,  and  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  which  brought  him  undying  fame. 

After  meeting  with  Johnson,  Goldsmith  became  the  object  of 
BoswelPs  magpie  curiosity ;  and  to  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson  we  are 
indebted  for  many  of  the  details  of  Goldsmith's  life,  —  his  homeli- 
ness, his  awkward  ways,  his  drolleries  and  absurdities,  which  made 
him  alternately  the  butt  and  the  wit  of  the  famous  Literary  Club. 
Boswell  disliked  Goldsmith,  and  so  draws  an  unflattering  portrait, 
but  even  this  does  not  disguise  the  contagious  good  humor  which 
made  men  love  him.  When  in  his  forty-seventh  year,  he  fell  sick  of 


3  H  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

a  fever,  and  with  childish  confidence  turned  to  a  quack  medicine  to 
cure  himself.  He  died  in  1774,  and  Johnson  placed  a  tablet,  with  a 
sonorous  Latin  epitaph,  in  Westminster  Abbey,  though  Goldsmith 
was  buried  elsewhere.  "  Let  not  his  frailties  be  remembered ;  he 
was  a  very  great  man,"  said  Johnson;  and  the  literary  world  — 
which,  like  that  old  dictator,  is  kind  enough  at  heart,  though  often 
rough  in  its  methods  —  is  glad  to  accept  and  record  the  verdict. 

Works  of  Goldsmith.  Of  Goldsmith's  early  essays  and  his 
later  school  histories  little  need  be  said.  They  have  settled 
into  their  own  place,  far  out  of  sight  of  the  ordinary  reader. 
Perhaps  the  most  interesting  of  these  is  a  series  of  letters  for 
the  Public  Ledger  (afterwards  published  as  The  Citizen  of  the 
World},  written  from  the  view  point  of  an  alleged  Chinese 
traveler,  and  giving  the  latter's  comments  on  English  civili- 
zation.1 The  following  five  works  are  those  upon  which  Gold- 
smith's fame  chiefly  rests : 

The  Traveller  (1764)  made  Goldsmith's  reputation  among 
his  contemporaries,  but  is  now  seldom  read,  except  by  stu- 
dents who  would  understand  how  Goldsmith  was,  at  one  time, 
dominated  by  Johnson  and  his  pseudo-classic  ideals.  It  is  a 
long  poem,  in  rimed  couplets,  giving  a  survey  and  criticism 
of  the  social  life  of  various  countries  in  Europe,  and  reflects 
many  of  Goldsmith's  own  wanderings  and  impressions. 

The  Deserted  Village  (1770),  though  written  in  the  same 
mechanical  style,  is  so  permeated  with  honest  human  sym- 
The  Deserted  pathy,  and  voices  so  perfectly  the  revolt  of  the 
Village  individual  man  against  institutions,  that  a  multi- 
tude of  common  people  heard  it  gladly,  without  consulting 
the  critics  as  to  whether  they  should  call  it  good  poetry. 
Notwithstanding  its  faults,  to  which  Matthew  Arnold  has 
called  sufficient  attention,  it  has  become  one  of  our  best 
known  poems,  though  we  cannot  help  wishing  that  the  mo- 
notony of  its  couplets  had  been  broken  by  some  of  the  Irish 
folk  songs  and  ballads  that  charmed  street  audiences  in 

1  Goldsmith's  idea,  which  was  borrowed  from  Walpole,  reappears  in  the  pseudo  Letters 
from  a  Chinese  Official,  which  recently  attracted  considerable  attention. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  3*5 

Dublin,  and  that  brought  Goldsmith  a  welcome  from  the  French 
peasants  wherever  he  stopped  to  sing.  In  the  village  parson 
and  the  schoolmaster,  Goldsmith  has  increased  Chaucer's  list 
by  two  lovable  characters  that  will  endure  as  long  as  the 
English  language.  The  criticism  that  the  picture  of  prosper- 
ous "  Sweet  Auburn  "  never  applied  to  any  village  in  Ireland 
is  just,  no  doubt,  but  it  is  outside  the  question.  Goldsmith 
was  a  hopeless  dreamer,  bound  to  see  everything,  as  he  saw 
his  debts  and  his  gay  clothes,  in  a  purely  idealistic  way. 

The  Good-Natured  Man  and  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  are 
Goldsmith's  two  comedies.  The  former,  a  comedy  of  charac- 
ter, though  it  has  some  laughable  scenes  and  one  laughable 
character,  Croaker,  met  with  failure  on  the  stage,  and  has 
never  been  revived  with  any  success.  The  latter,  a  comedy 
of  intrigue,  is  one  of  the  few  plays  that  has  never  lost  its 
popularity.  Its  lively,  bustling  scenes,  and  its  pleasantly  ab- 
surd characters,  Marlowe,  the  Hardcastles,  and  Tony  Lump- 
kin,  still  hold  the  attention  of  modern  theater  goers ;  and 
nearly  every  amateur  dramatic  club  sooner  or  later  places 
She  Stoops  to  Conquer  on  its  list  of  attractions. 

The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  is  Goldsmith's  only  novel,  and  the 
first  in  any  language  that  gives  to  home  life  an  enduring 
The  Vicar  of  romantic  interest.  However  much  we  admire  the 
Wakefield  beginnings  of  the  English  novel,  to  which  we  shall 
presently  refer,  we  are  nevertheless  shocked  by  its  frequent 
brutalities  and  indecencies.  Goldsmith,  like  Steele,  had  the 
Irish  reverence  for  pure  womanhood,  and  this  reverence 
made  him  shun  as  a  pest  the  vulgarity  and  coarseness  in 
which  contemporary  novelists,  like  Smollett  and  Sterne,  seemed 
to  delight.  So  he  did  for  the  novel  what  Addison  and  Steele 
had  done  for  the  satire  and  the  essay  ;  he  refined  and  elevated 
it,  making  it  worthy  of  the  old  Anglo-Saxon  ideals  which  are 
our  best  literary  heritage. 

Briefly,  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  is  the  story  of  a  simple 
English  clergyman,  Dr.  Primrose,  and  his  family,  who  pass 


316  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

from  happiness  through  great  tribulation.  Misfortunes,  which 
are  said  never  to  come  singly,  appear  in  this  case  in  flocks ; 
but  through  poverty,  sorrow,  imprisonment,  and  the  unspeak- 
able loss  of  his  daughters,  the  Vicar's  faith  in  God  and  man 
emerges  triumphant.  To  the  very  end  he  is  like  one  of  the 
old  martyrs,  who  sings  Alleluia  while  the  lions  roar  about 
him  and  his  children  in  the  arena.  Goldsmith's  optimism,  it 
must  be  confessed,  is  here  stretched  to  the  breaking  point. 
The  reader  is  sometimes  offered  fine  Johnsonian  phrases 
where  he  would  naturally  expect  homely  and  vigorous  lan- 
guage ;  and  he  is  continually  haunted  by  the  suspicion  that, 
even  in  this  best  of  all  possible  worlds,  the  Vicar's  clouds  of 
affliction  were  somewhat  too  easily  converted  into  showers  of 
blessing ;  yet  he  is  forced  to  read  on,  and  at  the  end  he  con- 
fesses gladly  that  Goldsmith  has  succeeded  in  making  a  most 
interesting  story  out  of  material  that,  in  other  hands,  would 
have  developed  either  a  burlesque  or  a  brutal  tragedy.  Lay- 
ing aside  all  romantic  passion,  intrigue,  and  adventure,  upon 
which  other  novelists  depended,  Goldsmith,  in  this  simple 
story  of  common  life,  has  accomplished  three  noteworthy  re- 
sults :  he  has  made  human  fatherhood  almost  a  divine  thing ; 
he  has  glorified  the  moral  sentiments  which  cluster  about  the 
family  life  as  the  center  of  civilization ;  and  he  has  given  us, 
in  Dr.  Primrose,  a  striking  and  enduring  figure,  which  seems 
more  like  a  personal  acquaintance  than  a  character  in  a  book. 

WILLIAM  COWPER  (1731-1800) 

In  Cowper  we  have  another  interesting  poet,  who,  like  Gray 
and  Goldsmith,  shows  the  struggle  between  romantic  and 
classic  ideals.  In  his  first  volume  of  poems,  Cowper  is  more 
hampered  by  literary  fashions  than  was  Goldsmith  in  his 
Traveller  and  his  Deserted  Village.  In  his  second  period, 
however,  Cowper  uses  blank  verse  freely;  and  his  delight  in 
nature  and  in  homely  characters,  like  the  teamster  and  the 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  317 

mail  carrier  of  The  7asfc,  shows  that  his  classicism  is  being  rap- 
idly thawed  out  by  romantic  feeling.  In  his  later  work,  espe- 
cially his  immortal  "John  Gilpin,"  Cowper  flings  fashions  aside, 
gives  Pegasus  the  reins,  takes  to  the  open  road,  and  so  proves 
himself  a  worthy  predecessor  of  Burns,  who  is  the  most  spon- 
taneous and  the  most  interesting  of  all  the  early  romanticists. 

Life.  Cowper 's  life  is  a  pathetic  story  of  a  shy  and  timid  genius, 
who  found  the  world  of  men  too  rough,  and  who  withdrew  to  nature 
like  a  wounded  animal.  He  was  born  at  Great  Berkhamstead,  Hert- 
fordshire, in  1731,  the  son  of  an  English  clergyman.  He  was  a  deli- 
cate, sensitive  child,  whose 
early  life  was  saddened  by 
the  death  of  his  mother  and 
by  his  neglect  at  home.  At 
six  years  he  was  sent  away  to 
a  boys'  school,  where  he  was 
terrified  by  young  barbarians 
who  made  his  life  miserable. 
There  was  one  atrocious  bully 
into  whose  face  Cowper  could 
never  look  ;  he  recognized  his 
enemy  by  his  shoe  buckles, 
and  shivered  at  his  approach. 
The  fierce  invectives  of  his 
"  Tirocinium,  or  a  Review  of 
Schools"  (1784),  shows  how 
these  school  experiences  had 
affected  his  mind  and  health. 
For  twelve  years  he  studied  WILLIAM  COWPER 

law,  but  at  the  approach  of  a 

public  examination  for  an  office  he  was  so  terrified  that  he  attempted 
suicide.  The  experience  unsettled  his  reason,  and  the  next  twelve 
months  were  spent  in  an  asylum  at  St.  Alban's.  The  death  of  his  father, 
in  1756,  had  brought  the  poet  a  small  patrimony,  which  placed  him 
above  the  necessity  of  struggling,  like  Goldsmith,  for  his  daily  bread. 
Upon  his  recovery  he  boarded  for  years  at  the  house  of  the  Unwins, 
cultured  people  who  recognized  the  genius  hidden  in  this  shy  and 
melancholy  yet  quaintly  humorous  man.  Mrs.  Unwin,  in  particular, 


3i8  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

cared  for  him  as  a  son  ;  and  whatever  happiness  he  experienced  in 
his  poor  life  was  the  result  of  the  devotion  of  this  good  woman,  who 
is  the  "  Mary  "  of  all  his  poems. 

A  second  attack  of  insanity  was  brought  on  by  Cowper's  morbid 
interest  in  religion,  influenced,  perhaps,  by  the  untempered  zeal  of 
one  John  Newton,  a  curate,  with  whom  Cowper  worked  in  the  small 
parish  of  Olney,  and  with  whom  he  compiled  the  famous  Olney 
Hymns.  The  rest  of  his  life,  between  intervals  of  melancholia  or 
insanity,  was  spent  in  gardening,  in  the  care  of  his  numerous  pets, 
and  in  writing  his  poems,  his  translation  of  Homer,  and  his  charm- 
ing letters.  His  two  best  known  poems  were  suggested  by  a  lively 
and  cultivated  widow,  Lady  Austen,  who  told  him  the  story  of  John 
Gilpin  and  called  for  a  ballad  on  the  subject.  She  also  urged  him 
to  write  a  long  poem  in  blank  verse  ;  and  when  he  demanded  a  sub- 
ject, she  whimsically  suggested  the  sofa,  which  was  a  new  article  of 
furniture  at  that  time.  Cowper  immediately  wrote  "The  Sofa,"  and, 
influenced  by  the  poetic  possibilities  that  lie  in  unexpected  places, 
he  added  to  this  poem  from  time  to  time,  and  called  his  completed 
work  The  Task.  This  was  published  in  1785,  and  the  author  was 
instantly  recognized  as  one  of  the  chief  poets  of  his  age.  The  last 
years  of  his  life  were  a  long  battle  with  insanity,  until  death  mer- 
cifully ended  the  struggle  in  1800.  His  last  poem,  "The  Casta- 
way," is  a  cry  of  despair,  in  which,  under  guise  of  a  man  washed 
overboard  in  a  storm,  he  describes  himself  perishing  in  the  sight  of 
friends  who  are  powerless  to  help. 

Cowper's  Works.  Cowper's  first  volume  of  poems,  contain- 
ing "The  Progress  of  Error,"  "Truth,"  "Table  Talk,"  etc., 
is  interesting  chiefly  as  showing  how  the  poet  was  bound  by 
the  classical  rules  of  his  age.  These  poems  are  dreary,  on  the 
whole,  but  a  certain  gentleness,  and  especially  a  vein  of  pure 
humor,  occasionally  rewards  the  reader.  For  Cowper  was  a 
humorist,  and  only  the  constant  shadow  of  insanity  kept  him 
from  becoming  famous  in  that  line  alone. 

The  Task,  written  in  blank  verse,  and  published  in  1785, 
is  Cowper's  longest  poem.  Used  as  we  are  to  the  natural 
poetry  of  Wordsworth  and  Tennyson,  it  is  hard  for  us  to 
appreciate  the  striking  originality  of  this  work.  Much  of  it  is 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  319 

conventional  and  "wooden,"  to  be  sure,  like  much  of  Words- 
worth's poetry ;  but  when,  after  reading  the  rimed  essays  and 
the  artificial  couplets  of  Johnson's  age,  we  turn  sud- 

TheTask          ,     '  _  ,       ,          .      .  ,  T   ' 

denly  to  Cowper  s  description  or  homely  scenes, 
of  woods  and  brooks,  of  plowmen  and  teamsters  and  the 
letter  carrier  on  his  rounds,  we  realize  that  we  are  at  the 
dawn  of  a  better  day  in  poetry  : 

He  comes,  the  herald  of  a  noisy  world, 

With  spatter'd  boots,  strapp'd  waist,  and  frozen  locks: 

News  from  all  nations  lumbering  at  his  back. 

True  to  his  charge,  the  close-packed  load  behind, 

Yet  careless  what  he  brings,  his  one  concern 

Is  to  conduct  it  to  the  destined  inn, 

And,  having  dropped  the  expected  bag,  pass  on. 

He  whistles  as  he  goes,  light-hearted  wretch, 

Cold  and  yet  cheerful :  messenger  of  grief 

Perhaps  to  thousands,  and  of  joy  to  some  ; 

To  him  indifferent  whether  grief  or  joy. 

Houses  in  ashes,  and  the  fall  of  stocks, 

Births,  deaths,  and  marriages,  epistles  wet 

With  tears  that  trickled  down  the  writer's  cheeks 

Fast  as  the  periods  from  his  fluent  quill, 

Or  charged  with  amorous  sighs  of  absent  swains, 

Or  nymphs  responsive,  equally  affect 

His  horse  and  him,  unconscious  of  them  all. 

Cowper's  most  laborious  work,  the  translation  of  Homer  in 
blank  verse,  was  published  in  1791.  Its  stately,  Milton-like 
Misceiiane-  movement,  and  its  better  rendering  of  the  Greek, 
ous  Works  make  this  translation  far  superior  to  Pope's  artifi- 
cial couplets.  It  is  also  better,  in  many  respects,  than  Chap- 
man's more  famous  and  more  fanciful  rendering ;  but  for 
some  reason  it  was  not  successful,  and  has  never  received  the 
recognition  which  it  deserves.  Entirely  different  in  spirit  are 
the  poet's  numerous  hymns,  which  were  published  in  the 
Olney  Collection  in  1779,  and  which  are  still  used  in  our 
churches.  It  is  only  necessary  to  mention  a  few  first  lines 
—  ''  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way,"  "  Oh,  for  a  closer  walk 


320  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

with  God,"  "Sometimes  a  light  surprises"  —  to  show  how 
his  gentle  and  devout  spirit  has  left  its  impress  upon  thou- 
sands who  now  hardly  know  his  name.  With  Cowper's  charm- 
ing Letters,  published  in  1803,  we  reach  the  end  of  his  im- 
portant works,  and  the  student  who  enjoys  reading  letters 
will  find  that  these  rank  among  the  best  of  their  kind.  It 
is  not,  however,  for  his  ambitious  works  that  Cowper  is 
remembered,  but  rather  for  his  minor  poems,  which  have 
found  their  own  way  into  so  many  homes.  Among  these,  the 
one  that  brings  quickest  response  from  hearts  that  understand 
is  his  little  poem,  "On  the  Receipt  of  My  Mother's  Picture," 
beginning  with  the  striking  line,  "Oh,  that  those  lips  had 
language."  Another,  called  "Alexander  Selkirk,"  beginning, 
"I  am  monarch  of  all  I  survey,"  suggests  how  Selkirk's  ex- 
periences as  a  castaway  (which  gave  Defoe  his  inspiration  for 
Robinson  Crusoe)  affected  the  poet's  timid  nature  and  imagi- 
nation. Last  and  most  famous  of  all  is  his  immortal  "John 
Gilpin."  Cowper  was  in  a  terrible  fit  of  melancholy  when 
Lady  Austen  told  him  the  story,  which  proved  to  be  better 
than  medicine,  for  all  night  long  chuckles  and  suppressed 
laughter  were  heard  in  the  poet's  bedroom.  Next  morning  at 
breakfast  he  recited  the  ballad  that  had  afforded  its  author  so 
much  delight  in  the  making.  The  student  should  read  it, 
even  if  he  reads  nothing  else  by  Cowper  ;  and  he  will  be  lack- 
ing in  humor  or  appreciation  if  he  is  not  ready  to  echo  heartily 
the  last  stanza : 

Now  let  us  sing,  Long  live  the  King, 

And  Gilpin,  long  live  he  ! 
And  when  he  next  doth  ride  abroad 

May  I  be  there  to  see. 

ROBERT  BURNS  (1759-1796) 

After  a  century  and  more  of  Classicism,  we  noted  with 
interest  the  work  of  three  men,  Gray,  Goldsmith,  and  Cowper, 
whose  poetry,  like  the  chorus  of  awakening  birds,  suggests 
the  dawn  of  another  day.  Two  other  poets  of  the  same  age 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE 


321 


suggest  the  sunrise.  The  first  is  the  plowman  Burns,  who 
speaks  straight  from  the  heart  to  the  primitive  emotions  of 
the  race ;  the  second  is  the  mystic  Blake,  who  only  half 
understands  his  own  thoughts,  and  whose  words  stir  a  sensi- 
tive nature  as  music  does,  or  the  moon  in  midheaven,  rousing 
in  the  soul  those  vague  desires  and  aspirations  which  ordinarily 
sleep,  and  which  can 
never  be  expressed 
because  they  have  no 
names.  Blake  lived 
his  shy,  mystic,  spirit- 
ual life  in  the  crowded 
city,  and  his  message 
is  to  the  few  who  can 
understand.  Burns 
lived  his  sad,  toilsome, 
erring  life  in  the  open 
air,  with  the  sun  and 
the  rain,  and  his  songs 
touch  all  the  world. 
The  latter's  poetry,  so 
far  as  it  has  a  philos- 
ophy, rests  upon  two 
principles  which  the 
classic  school  never  understood,  — ghat  common  people  are  at, 
heart  romantic  andjovers  of  the  ideal,  and  |hat^sjniple Jiuman 
emotions  furnish  the  elements  of  true  poetry.  Largely  because 
he  follows  these  two  principles,  Burns  is  probably  the  greatest 
song  writer  of  the  world.  His  poetic  creed  may  be  summed 
up  in  one  of  his  own  stanzas : 

Give  me  ae  spark  o'  Nature's  fire, 

That 's  a'  the  learning  I  desire  ; 

Then,  though  I  trudge  thro'  dub  an'  mire 

At  pleugh  or  cart, 
My  Muse,  though  hamely  in  attire, 

May  touch  the  heart. 


ROBERT   BURNS 


322  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Life.1  Burns's  life  is|"a  life  of  fragments."  as  Carlyle  called  it; 
and  the  different  fragments  are  as  unlike  as  the  noble  "  Cotter's 
Saturday  Night"  and  the  rant  and  riot  of  "The  Jolly  Beggars." 
The  details  of  this  sad  and  disjointed  life  were  better,  perhaps, 
forgotten.  We  call  attention  only  to  the  facts  which  help  us  to  un- 
derstand the  man  and  his  poetry. 

Burns  was  born  in  a  clay  cottage  at  Alloway,  Scotland,  in  the  bleak 
winter  of  1 759.  His  father  was  an  excellent  type  of  the  Scotch  peas- 
ant of  those  days,  —  a  poor,  honest,  God-fearing  man,  who  toiled 
from  dawn  till  dark  to  wrest  a  living  for  his  family  from  the  stubborn 
soil.  His  tall  figure  was  bent  with  unceasing  labor ;  his  hair  was  thin 
and  gray,  and  in  his  eyes  was  the  careworn,  hunted  look  of  a  peasant 
driven  by  poverty  and  unpaid  rents  from  one  poor  farm  to  another. 
The  family  often  fasted  of  necessity,  and  lived  in  solitude  to  avoid 
the  temptation  of  spending  their  hard-earned  money.  The  children 
went  barefoot  and  bareheaded  in  all  weathers,  and  shared  the  parents' 
toil  and  their  anxiety  over  the  rents.  At  thirteen  ^Bobbv/ the  eldest, 
was  doing  a  peasant's  full  day's  labor ;  at  sixteen  he  was  chief  laborer 
on  his  father's  farm;  and  he  describes  the  life  as  "the  cheerless 
gloom  of  a  hermit,  and  the  unceasing  moil  of  a  galley  slave."  In 
1784  the  father,  after  a  lifetime  of  toil,  was  saved  from  a  debtor's 
prison  by  consumption  and  death.  To  rescue  something  from  the 
wreck  of  the  home,  and  to  win  a  poor  chance  of  bread  for  the  family, 
the  two  older  boys  set  up  a  claim  for  arrears  of  wages  that  had  never 
been  paid.  With  the  small  sum  allowed  them,  they  buried  their 
father,  took  another  farm,  Mossgiel,  in  Mauchline,  and  began  again 
the  long  struggle  with  poverty. 

Such,  in  outline,  is  Burns's  own  story  of  his  early  life,  taken  mostly 
from  his  letters.  There  is  another  and  more  pleasing  side  to  the  pic- 
ture, of  which  we  have  glimpses  in  his  poems  and  in  his  Common- 
place Book.  Here  we  see  the  boy  at  school ;  for  like  most  Scotch 
peasants,  the  father  gave  his  boys  the  best  education  he  possibly 
could.  We  see  him  following  the  plow,  not  like  a  slave,  but  like  a 
free  man,  crooning  over  an  old  Scotch  song  and  making  a  better 
one  to  match  the  melody.  We  see  him  stop  the  plow  to  listen  to 
what  the  wind  is  saying,  or  turn  aside  lest  he  disturb  the  birds  at 
their  singing  and  nest  making.  At  supper  we  see  the  family  about 

1  Fitz-Greene  Halleck's  poem  "  To  a  Rose  from  near  Alloway  Kirk"  (1822)  is  a  good 
appreciation  of  Burns  and  his  poetry.  It  might  be  well  to  read  this  poem  before  the  sad 
story  of  Burns's  life. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  323 

the  table,  happy  notwithstanding  their  scant  fare,  each  child  with  a 
spoon  in  one  hand  and  a  book  in  the  other.  We  hear  Betty  Davidson 
reciting,  from  her  great  store,  some  heroic  ballad  that  fired  the 
young  hearts  to  enthusiasm  and  made  them  forget  the  day's  toil. 
And  in  "The  Cotter's  Saturday  Night  "  we  have  a  glimpse  of  Scotch 
peasant  life  that  makes  us  almost  reverence  these  heroic  men  and 
women,  who  kept  their  faith  and  their  self-respect  in  the  face  of 
poverty,  and  whose  hearts,  under  their  rough  exteriors,  were  tender 
and  true  as  steel. 

A  most  unfortunate  change  in  Burns' s  life  began  when  he  left  the 
farm,  at  seventeen,  and  went  to  Kirkoswald  to  study  surveying.  The 
town  was  the  haunt  of  smugglers,  rough-living,  hard-drinking  men ; 


BIRTHPLACE  OF   BURNS 

and  Burns  speedily  found  his  way  into  those  scenes  of  "  riot  and 
roaring  dissipation  "  which  were  his  bane  ever  afterwards.  For  a 
little  while  he  studied  diligently,  but  one  day,  while  taking  the  alti- 
tude of  the  sun,  he  saw  a  pretty  girl  in  the  neighboring  garden,  and 
love  put  trigonometry  to  flight.  Soon  he  gave  up  his  work  and  wan- 
dered back  to  the  farm  and  poverty  again. 

When  twenty-seven  years  of  age  Burns  first  attracted  literary 
attention,  and  in  the  same  moment  sprang  to  the  first  place  in 
Scottish  letters.  In  despair  over  his  poverty  and  personal  habits, 
he  resolved  to  emigrate  to  Jamaica,  and  gathered  together  a  few  of 
his  early  poems,  hoping  to  sell  them  for  enough  to  pay  the  expenses 
of  his  journey.  The  result  was  the  famous  Kilmarnock  edition  of 
Burns,  published  in  1786,  for  which  he  was  offered  twenty  pounds, 
It  is  said  that  he  even  bought  his  ticket,  and  on  the  night  before 


324  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  ship  sailed  wrote  his  "  Farewell  to  Scotland,"  beginning,  "The 
gloomy  night  is  gathering  fast,"  which  he  intended  to  be  his  last 
song  on  Scottish  soil. 

In  the  morning  he  changed  his  mind,  led  partly  by  some  dim 
foreshadowing  of  the  result  of  his  literary  adventure ;  for  the  little 
book  took  all  Scotland  by  storm.  Not  only  scholars  and  literary 
men,  but  "  even  plowboys  and  maid  servants,"  says  a  contempo- 
rary, eagerly  spent  their  hard-earned  shillings  for  the  new  book. 
Instead  of  going  to  Jamaica,  the  young  poet  hurried  to  Edinburgh 
to  arrange  for  another  edition  of  his  work.  His  journey  was  a  con- 
stant ovation,  and  in  the  capital  he  was  welcomed  and  feasted  by 
the  best  of  Scottish  society.  This  unexpected  triumph  lasted  only 
one  winter.  Burns's  fondness  for  taverns  and  riotous  living  shocked 
his  cultured  entertainers,  and  when  he  returned  to  Edinburgh  next 
winter,  after  a  pleasure  jaunt  through  the  Highlands,  he  received 
scant  attention.  He  left  the  city  in  anger  and  disappointment,  and 
went  back  to  the  soil,  where  he  was  more  at  home. 

The  last  few  years  of  Burns's  life  are  a  sad  tragedy,  and  we  pass 
over  them  hurriedly.  He  bought  the  farm  Ellisland,  Dumfriesshire, 
and  married  the  faithful  Jean  Armour,  in  1788.  That  he  could  write 

of  her, 

I  see  her  in  the  dewy  flowers, 

I  see  her  sweet  and  fair ; 

I  hear  her  in  the  tunefu'  birds, 

I  hear  her  charm  the  air : 

There's  not  a  bonie  flower  that  springs 

By  fountain,  shaw,  or  green  ; 

There's  not  a  bonie  bird  that  sings, 

But  minds  me  o'  my  Jean, 

is  enough  for  us  to  remember.  The  next  year  he  was  appointed  ex- 
ciseman, i.e.  collector  of  liquor  revenues,  and  the  small  salary,  with 
the  return  from  his  poems,  would  have  been  sufficient  to  keep  his 
family  in  modest  comfort,  had  he  but  kept  away  from  taverns.  For 
a  few  years  his  life  of  alternate  toil  and  dissipation  was  occasionally 
illumined  by  his  splendid  lyric  genius,  and  he  produced  many  songs 
—  "Bonnie  Boon,"  "  My  Love  's  like  a  Red,  Red  Rose,"  "Auld 
Lang  Syne,"  "  Highland  Mary,"  and  the  soul-stirring  "  Scots  wha 
hae,"  composed  while  galloping  over  the  moor  in  a  storm  —  which 
have  made  the  name  of  Burns  known  wherever  the  English  language 
is  spoken,  and  honored  wherever  Scotchmen  gather  together.  He  died 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  325 

miserably  in  1796,  when  only  thirty-seven  years  old.  His  last  letter 
was  an  appeal  to  a  friend  for  money  to  stave  off  the  bailiff,  and  one 
of  his  last  poems  a  tribute  to  Jessie  Lewars,  a  kind  lassie  who 
helped  to  care  for  him  in  his  illness.  This  last  exquisite  lyric,  "  O 
wert  thou  in  the  cauld  blast,"  set  to  Mendelssohn's  music,  is  one 
of  our  best  known  songs,  though  its  history  is  seldom  suspected  by 
those  who  sing  it. 

The  Poetry  of  Burns.  The  publication  of  the  Kilmarnock 
Burns,  with  the  title  Poems  Chiefly  in  the  Scottish  Dialect 
(1786),  marks  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  English  Literature, 
like  the  publication  of  Spenser's  Shepherd's  Calendar.  After 
a  century  of  cold  and  formal  poetry,  relieved  only  by  the 
romanticism  of  Gray  and  Cowper,  these  fresh  inspired  songs 
went  straight  to  the  heart,  like  the  music  of  returning  birds 
in  springtime.  It  was  a  little  volume,  but  a  great  book ;  and 
we  think  of  Marlowe's  line,  "Infinite  riches  in  a  little  room," 
in  connection  with  it.  Such  poems  as  "The  Cotter's  Satur- 
day Night,"  "To  a  Mouse,"  "To  a  Mountain  Daisy,"  "Man 
was  Made  to  Mourn,"  "The  Twa  Dogs,"  "Address  to  the 
Deil,"  and  "Halloween,"  suggest  that  the  whole  spirit  of 
the  romantic  revival  is  embodied  in  this  obscure  plowman. 
Love,  humor,  pathos,  the  response  to  nature,  —  all  the  poetic 
qualities  that  touch  the  human  heart  are  here  ;  and  the  heart 
was  touched  as  it  had  not  been  since  the  days  of  Elizabeth. 
If  the  reader  will  note  again  the  six  characteristics  of  the 
romantic  movement,  and  then  read  six  poems  of  Burns,  he 
will  see  at  once  how  perfectly  this  one  man  expresses  the 
new  idea.  Or  take  a  single  suggestion, — 

Ae  fond  kiss,  and  then  we  sever ! 
Ae  farewell,  and  then  forever  ! 
Deep  in  heart-wrung  tears  I'll  pledge  thee, 
Warring  sighs  and  groans  I'll  wage  thee. 
Who  shall  say  that  Fortune  grieves  him 
While  the  star  of  hope  she  leaves  him  ? 
Me,  nae  cheerfu'  twinkle  lights  me  ; 
Dark  despair  around  benights  me. 


326  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

I'll  ne'er  blame  my  partial  fancy, 
Naething  could  resist  my  Nancy ; 
But  to  see  her  was  to  love  her ; 
Love  but  her,  and  love  forever. 
Had  we  never  lov'd  sae  kindly, 
Had  we  never  lov'd  sae  blindly, 
Never  met  —  or  never  parted  — 
We  had  ne'er  been  broken-hearted. 

The  "essence  of  a  thousand  love  tales"  is  in  that  one  little 
song.  Because  he  embodies  the  new  spirit  of  romanticism, 
critics  give  him  a  high  place  in  the  history  of  our  literature ; 
and  because  his  songs  go  straight  to  the  heart,  he  is  the  poet 
of  common  men. 

Of  Burns's  many  songs  for  music  little  need  be  said.  They 
have  found  their  way  into  the  hearts  of  a  whole  people,  and 
Songs  for  there  they  speak  for  themselves.  They  range  from 
Music  the  exquisite  "  O  wert  thou  in  the  cauld  blast,"  to 

the  tremendous  appeal  to  Scottish  patriotism  in  "  Scots  wha 
hae  wi'  Wallace  bled,"  which,  Carlyle  said,  should  be  sung 
with  the  throat  of  the  whirlwind.  Many  of  these  songs  were 
composed  in  his  best  days,  when  following  the  plow  or  resting 
after  his  work,  while  the  music  of  some  old  Scotch  song  was 
ringing  in  his  head.  It  is  largely  because  he  thought  of  music 
while  he  composed  that  so  many  of  his  poems  have  the  singing 
quality,  suggesting  a  melody  as  we  read  them. 

Among  his  poems  of  nature,  "To  a  Mouse"  and  "To  a 
Mountain  Daisy"  are  unquestionably  the  best,  suggesting  the 
poetical  possibilities  that  daily  pass  unnoticed  under  our  feet. 
These  two  poems  are  as  near  as  Burns  ever  comes  to  appre- 
ciating nature  for  its  own  sake.  The  majority  of  his  poems, 
like  "  Winter "  and  "  Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonie  Boon," 
regard  nature  in  the  same  way  that  Gray  regarded  it,  as  a 
background  for  the  play  of  human  emotions. 

Of  his  poems  of  emotion  there  is  an  immense  number.  It 
is  a  curious  fact  that  the  world  is  always  laughing  and  crying 
at  the  same  moment;  and  we  can  hardly  read  a  page  of 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE 


327 


Burns  without  finding  this  natural  juxtaposition  of  smiles  and 
tears.  It  is  noteworthy  also  that  all  strong  emotions,  when 
expressed  naturally,  lend  themselves  to  poetry ;  and  Burns, 
more  than  any  other  writer,  has  an  astonishing  faculty  of 
describing  his  own  emotions  with  vividness  and  simplicity,  so 
that  they  appeal  instantly  to  our  own.  One  can- 
not read,  "  I  love  my  Jean,"  for  instance,  with- 
out being  in  love  with  some  idealized  woman ; 
or  "To  Mary  in  Heaven,"  without  sharing  the 
personal  grief  of  one  who  has  loved  and  lost. 


THE  AULD  BRIG,  AYR  (AYR  BRIDGE) 

Besides  the  songs  of  nature  and  of  human  emotion,  Burns 
has  given  us  a  large  number  of  poems  for  which  no  general 
Misceiiane-  title  can  be  given.  Noteworthy  among  these  are 
ous Poems  "A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that,"  which  voices  the 
new  romantic  estimate  of  humanity;  "The  Vision,"  from 
which  we  get  a  strong  impression  of  Burns's  early  ideals  ;  the 
"  Epistle  to  a  Young  Friend,"  from  which,  rather  than  from 
his  satires,  we  learn  Burns's  personal  views  of  religion  and 
honor;  the  "Address  to  the  Unco  Guid,"  which  is  the  poet's 
plea  for  mercy  in  judgment;  and  "A  Bard's  Epitaph,"  which, 
as  a  summary  of  his  own  life,  might  well  be  written  at  the  end 
of  his  poems.  "  Halloween,"  a  picture  of  rustic  merrymaking, 
and  "  The  Twa  Dogs,"  a  contrast  between  the  rich  and  poor, 


328  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

are  generally  classed  among  the  poet's  best  works  ;  but  one 
unfamiliar  with  the  Scotch  dialect  will  find  them  rather  difficult. 
Of  Burns's  longer  poems  the  two  best  worth  reading  are 
"  The  Cotter's  Saturday  Night "  and  "Tarn  o'  Shanter," — the 
one  giving  the  most  perfect  picture  we  possess  of  a  noble 
poverty ;  the  other  being  the  most  lively  and  the  least  objec- 
tionable of  his  humorous  works.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find 
elsewhere  such  a  combination  of  the  grewsome  and  the  ridicu- 
lous as  is  packed  up  in  "Tarn  o'  Shanter."  With  the  excep- 
tion of  these  two,  the  longer  poems  add  little  to  the  author's 
fame  or  to  our  own  enjoyment.  It  is  better  for  the  beginner 
to  read  Burns's  exquisite  songs  and  gladly  to  recognize  his  place 
in  the  hearts  of  a  people,  and  forget  the  rest,  since  they  only 
sadden  us  and  obscure  the  poet's  better  nature. 

WILLIAM  BLAKE  (1757-1827) 

Piping  down  the  valleys  wild, 

Piping  songs  of  pleasant  glee, 
On  a  cloud  I  saw  a  child, 

And  he  laughing  said  to  me : 

"  Pipe  a  song  about  a  lamb  ;  " 

So  I  piped  with  merry  cheer. 
w  Piper,  pipe  that  song  again  ;  " 

So  I  piped :  he  wept  to  hear. 

"Piper,  sit  thee  down  and  write 

In  a  book,  that  all  may  read  ;  " 
So  he  vanished  from  my  sight, 

And  I  plucked  a  hollow  reed, 

And  I  made  a  rural  pen, 

And  I  stained  the  water  clear, 
And  I  wrote  my  happy  songs 

Every  child  may  joy  to  hear.1 

Of  all  the  romantic  poets  of  the  eighteenth  century,  Blake 
is  the  most  independent  and  the  most  original.    In  his  earliest 

1  Introduction,  Songs  of  Innocence. 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  329 

work,  written  when  he  was  scarcely  more  than  a  child,  he 
seems  to  go  back  to  the  Elizabethan  song  writers  for  his 
models ;  but  for  the  greater  part  of  his  life  he  was  the  poet 
of  inspiration  alone,  following  no  man's  lead,  and  obeying  no 
voice  but  that  which  he  heard  in  his  own  mystic  soul.  Though 
the  most  extraordinary  literary  genius  of  his  age,  he  had  prac- 
tically no  influence  upon  it.  Indeed,  we  hardly  yet  understand 
this  poet  of  pure  fancy,  this  mystic,  this  transcendental  mad- 
man, who  remained  to  the  end  of  his  busy  life  an  incompre- 
hensible child. 

Life.  Blake,  the  son  of  a  London  tradesman,  was  a  strange,  imagi- 
native child,  whose  soul  was  more  at  home  with  brooks  and  flowers 
and  fairies  than  with  the  crowd  of  the  city  streets.  Beyond  learning 
to  read  and  write,  he  received  no  education ;  but  he  began,  at  ten 
years,  to  copy  prints  and  to  write  verses.  He  also  began  a  long 
course  of  art  study,  which  resulted  in  his  publishing  his  own  books, 
adorned  with  marginal  engravings  colored  by  hand,  —  an  unusual 
setting,  worthy  of  the  strong  artistic  sense  that  shows  itself  in  many 
of  his  early  verses.  As  a  child  he  had  visions  of  God  and  the  angels 
looking  in  at  his  window ;  and  as  a  man  he  thought  he  received 
visits  from  the  souls  of  the  great  dead,  Moses,  Virgil,  Homer,  Dante, 
Milton,  — "  majestic  shadows,  gray  but  luminous,"  he  calls  them. 
He  seems  never  to  have  asked  himself  the  question  how  far  these 
visions  were  pure  illusions,  but  believed  and  trusted  them  implicitly. 
To  him  all  nature  was  a  vast  spiritual  symbolism,  wherein  he  saw 
elves,  fairies,  devils,  angels,  —  all  looking  at  him  in  friendship  or 
enmity  through  the  eyes  of  flowers  and  stars  : 

With  the  blue  sky  spread  over  with  wings, 
And  the  mild  sun  that  mounts  and  sings ; 

With  trees  and  fields  full  of  fairy  elves, 
And  little  devils  who  fight  for  themselves ; 

With  angels  planted  in  hawthorne  bowers, 
And  God  himself  in  the  passing  hours. 

And  this  curious,  pantheistic  conception  of  nature  was  not  a  matter 
of  creed,  but  the  very  essence  of  Blake's  life.  Strangely  enough,  he 
made  no  attempt  to  found  a  new  religious  cult,  but  followed  his  own 


330  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

way,  singing  cheerfully,  working  patiently,  in  the  face  of  discourage- 
ment and  failure.  That  writers  of  far  less  genius  were  exalted  to 
favor,  while  he  remained  poor  and  obscure,  does  not  seem  to  have 
troubled  him  in  the  least.  For  over  forty  years  he  labored  diligently 
at  book  engraving,  guided  in  his  art  by  Michael  Angelo,  but  invent- 
ing his  own  curious  designs,  at  which  we  still  wonder.  The  illustra- 
tions for  Young's  "  Night  Thoughts,"  for  Blair's  "  Grave,"  and  the 
"Inventions  to  the  Book  of  Job,"  show  the  peculiarity  of  Blake's 
mind  quite  as  clearly  as  his  poems.  While  he  worked  at  his  trade 
he  flung  off  —  for  he  never  seemed  to  compose  —  disjointed  visions 
and  incomprehensible  rhapsodies,  with  an  occasional  little  gem  that 
still  sets  our  hearts  to  singing : 

Ah,  sunflower,  weary  of  time, 

Who  countest  the  steps  of  the  sun ; 
Seeking  after  that  sweet  golden  clime 

Where  the  traveller's  journey  is  done  ; 

Where  the  youth  pined  away  with  desire, 
And  the  pale  virgin  shrouded  in  snow, 

Rise  from  their  graves,  and  aspire 
Where  my  sunflower  wishes  to  go ! 

That  is  a  curious  flower  to  find  growing  in  the  London  street ;  but 
it  suggests  Blake's  own  life,  which  was  outwardly  busy  and  quiet,  but 
inwardly  full  of  adventure  and  excitement.  His  last  huge  prophetic 
works,  like  Jerusalem  and  Milton  (1804),  were  dictated  to  him,  he 
declares,  by  supernatural  means,  and  even  against  his  own  will. 
They  are  only  half  intelligible,  but  here  and  there  one  sees  flashes 
of  the  same  poetic  beauty  that  marks  his  little  poems.  Critics  gen- 
erally dismiss  Blake  with  the  word  "  madman  " ;  but  that  is  only  an 
evasion.  At  best,  he  is  the  writer  of  exquisite  lyrics ;  at  worst,  he  is 
mad  only  "  north-northwest,"  like  Hamlet ;  and  the  puzzle  is  to  find 
the  method  in  his  madness.  The  most  amazing  thing  about  him  is 
the  perfectly  sane  and  cheerful  way  in  which  he  moved  through 
poverty  and  obscurity,  flinging  out  exquisite  poems  or  senseless  rhap- 
sodies, as  a  child  might  play  with  gems  or  straws  or  sunbeams  indif- 
ferently. He  was  a  gentle,  kindly,  most  unworldly  little  man,  with 
extraordinary  eyes,  which  seem  even  in  the  lifeless  portraits  to  re- 
flect some  unusual  hypnotic  power.  He  died  obscurely,  smiling  at  a 
vision  of  Paradise,  in  182  7.  That  was  nearly  a  century  ago,  yet  he  still 
remains  one  of  the  most  incomprehensible  figures  in  our  literature. 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  331 

Works  of  Blake.  The  Poetical  Sketches,  published  in  1783, 
is  a  collection  of  Blake's  earliest  poetry,  much  of  it  written  in 
boyhood.  It  contains  much  crude  and  incoherent  work,  but 
also  a  few  lyrics  of  striking  originality.  Two  later  and  better 
known  volumes  are  Songs  of  Innocence  and  Songs  of  Experi- 
ence, reflecting  two  widely  different  views  of  the  human  soul. 
As  in  all  his  works,  there  is  an  abundance  of  apparently  worth- 
less stuff  in  these  songs  ;  but,  in  the  language  of  miners,  it  is  all 
"pay  dirt  "• ;  it  shows  gleams  of  golden  grains  that  await  our 
sifting,  and  now  and  then  we  find  a  nugget  unexpectedly : 

My  lord  was  like  a  flower  upon  the  brows 
Of  lusty  May  ;  ah  life  as  frail  as  flower  ! 
My  lord  was  like  a  star  in  highest  heaven, 
Drawn  down  to  earth  by  spells  and  wickedness  j 
My  lord  was  like  the  opening  eye  of  day  ; 
But  he  is  darkened ;  like  the  summer  moon 
Clouded  ;  falPn  like  the  stately  tree,  cut  down  ; 
The  breath  of  heaven  dwelt  among  his  leaves. 

On  account  of  the  chaotic  character  of  most  of  Blake's 
work,  it  is  well  to  begin  our  reading  with  a  short  book  of 
selections,  containing  the  best  songs  of  these  three  little  vol- 
umes. Swinburne  calls  Blake  the  only  poet  of  "  supreme  and 
simple  poetic  genius  "  of  the  eighteenth  century,  "  the  one 
man  of  that  age  fit,  on  all  accounts,  to  rank  with  the  old  great 
masters."  *  The  praise  is  doubtless  extravagant,  and  the  criti- 
cism somewhat  intemperate  ;  but  when  we  have  read  "  The 
Evening  Star,"  "Memory,"  "Night,"  "Love,"  "To  the 
Muses,"  "Spring,"  "Summer,"  "The  Tiger,"  "The  Lamb," 
"The  Clod  and  the  Pebble,"  we  may  possibly  share  Swin- 
burne's enthusiasm.  Certainly,  in  these  three  volumes  we 
have  some  of  the  most  perfect  and  the  most  original  songs  in 
our  language. 

Of  Blake's  longer  poems,  his  titanic  prophecies  and  apoca- 
lyptic splendors,  it  is  impossible  to  write  justly  in  such  a  brief 
work  as  this.  Outwardly  they  suggest  a  huge  chaff  pile,  and 

1  Swinburne's  William  Blake. 


332  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  scattered  grains  of  wheat  hardly  warrant  the  labor  of  win- 
nowing. The  curious  reader  will  get  an  idea  of  Blake's  amaz- 
ing mysticism  by  dipping  into  any  of  the  works  of  his  middle 
life,  —  Urizen,  Gates  of  Paradise,  Marriage  of  Heaven  and 
Hell,  America,  The  French  Revolution,  or  The  Vision  of  the 
Daughters  of  Albion.  His  latest  works,  like  Jerusalem  and 
Milton,  are  too  obscure  to  have  any  literary  value.  To  read 
any  of  these  works  casually  is  to  call  the  author  a  madman ; 
to  study  them,  remembering  Blake's  songs  and  his  genius,  is 
to  quote  softly  his  own  answer  to  the  child  who  asked  about 
the  land  of  dreams  : 

"  O  what  land  is  the  land  of  dreams, 

What  are  its  mountains  and  what  are  its  streams? 

—  O  father,  I  saw  my  mother  there, 

Among  the  lilies  by  waters  fair." 

w  Dear  child,  I  also  by  pleasant  streams 
Have  wandered  all  night  in  the  land  of  dreams; 
But  though  calm  and  warm  the  waters  wide, 
I  could  not  get  to  the  other  side." 

MINOR  POETS  OF  THE  REVIVAL 

We  have  chosen  the  five  preceding  poets,  Gray,  Goldsmith, 
Cowper,  Burns,  and  Blake,  as  the  most  typical  and  the  most 
interesting  of  the  writers  who  proclaimed  the  dawn  of  Roman- 
ticism in  the  eighteenth  century.  With  them  we  associate 
a  group  of  minor  writers,  whose  works  were  immensely  popu- 
lar in  their  own  day.  The  ordinary  reader  will  pass  them  by, 
but  to  the  student  they  are  all  significant  as  expressions  of 
very  different  phases  of  the  romantic  revival. 

James  Thomson  (1700-1748).  Thomson  belongs  among 
the  pioneers  of  Romanticism.  Like  Gray  and  Goldsmith,  he 
wavered  between  pseudo-classic  and  the  new  romantic  ideals, 
and  for  this  reason,  if  for  no  other,  his  early  work  is  interest- 
ing, like  the  uncertainty  of  a  child  who  hesitates  whether  to 
creep  safely  on  all  fours  or  risk  a  fall  by  walking.  He  is 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  333 

"worthy  to  be  remembered"  for  three  poems,  —  "Rule  Bri- 
tannia," which  is  still  one  of  the  national  songs  of  England, 
The  Castle  of  Indolence,  and  The  Seasons.  The  dreamy  and 
romantic  Castle  (1748),  occupied  by  enchanter  Indolence  and 
his  willing  captives  in  the  land  of  Drowsyhed,  is  purely  Spen- 
serian in  its  imagery,  and  is  written  in  the  Spenserian  stanza. 
The  Seasons  (1726-1730),  written  in  blank  verse,  describes 
the  sights  and  sounds  of  the  changing  year  and  the  poet's 
own  feelings  in  the  presence  of  nature.  These  two  poems, 
though  rather  dull  to  a  modern  reader,  were  significant  of  the 
early  romantic  revival  in  three  ways :  they  abandoned  the 
prevailing  heroic  couplet ;  they  went  back  to  the  Elizabethans, 
instead  of  to  Pope,  for  their  models ;  and  they  called  atten- 
tion to  the  long-neglected  life  of  nature  as  a  subject  for  poetry. 

William  Collins  (1721-1759).  Collins,  the  friend  and  dis- 
ciple of  Thomson,  was  of  a  delicate,  nervous  temperament, 
like  Cowper  ;  and  over  him  also  brooded  the  awful  shadow  of 
insanity.  His  first  work,  Oriental  Eclogues  (1742),  is  romantic 
in  feeling,  but  is  written  in  the  prevailing  mechanical  couplets. 
All  his  later  work  is  romantic  in  both  thought  and  expression. 
His  "Ode  on  the  Popular  Superstitions  of  the  Highlands" 
(1750)  is  an  interesting  event  in  the  romantic  revival,  for  it 
introduced  a  new  world,  of  witches,  pygmies,  fairies,  and  medi- 
aeval kings,  for  the  imagination  to  play  in.  Collins's  best  known 
poems  are  the  odes  "To  Simplicity,"  "To  Fear,"  "To  the 
Passions,"  the  little  unnamed  lyric  beginning  "How  sleep 
the  brave,"  and  the  exquisite  "Ode  to  Evening."  In  reading 
the  latter,  one  is  scarcely  aware  that  the  lines  are  so  delicately 
balanced  that  they  have  no  need  of  rime  to  accentuate  their 
melody. 

George  Crabbe  (1754-1832).  Crabbe  is  an  interesting  com- 
bination of  realism  and  romanticism,  his  work  of  depicting 
common  life  being,  at  times,  vaguely  suggestive  of  Fielding's 
novels.  The  Village  (1783),  a  poem  without  a  rival  as  a  pic- 
ture of  the  workingmen  of  his  age,  is  sometimes  like  Fielding 


334  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

in  its  coarse  vigor,  and  again  like  Dryden  in  its  precise  versi- 
fication. The  poem  was  not  successful  at  first,  and  Crabbe 
abandoned  his  literary  dreams.  For  over  twenty  years  he 
settled  down  as  a  clergyman  in  a  country  parish,  observing 
keenly  the  common  life  about  him.  Then  he  published  more 
poems,  exactly  like  The  Village,  which  immediately  brought 
him  fame  and  money.  They  brought  him  also  the  friendship 
of  Walter  Scott,  who,  like  others,  regarded  Crabbe  as  one  of 
the  first  poets  of  the  age.  These  later  poems,  The  Parish 
Register  (1807),  The  Borough  (1810),  Tales  in  Verse  (1812), 
and  Tales  of  the  Hall  (1819),  are  in  the  same  strain.  They  are 
written  in  couplets ;  they  are  reflections  of  nature  and  of 
country  life ;  they  contain  much  that  is  sordid  and  dull,  but 
are  nevertheless  real  pictures  of  real  men  and  women,  just  as 
Crabbe  saw  them,  and  as  such  they  are  still  interesting. 
Goldsmith  and  Burns  had  idealized  the  poor,  and  we  admire 
them  for  their  sympathy  and  insight.  It  remained  for  Crabbe 
to  show  that  in  wretched  fishing  villages,  in  the  lives  of  hard- 
working men  and  women,  children,  laborers,  smugglers,  pau- 
pers, —  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  common  men,  —  there  is 
abundant  romantic  interest  without  exaggerating  or  idealizing 
their  vices  and  virtues. 

James  Macpherson  (1736-1796).  In  Macpherson  we  have 
an  unusual  figure,  who  catered  to  the  new  romantic  interest 
in  the  old  epic  heroes,  and  won  immense  though  momentary 
fame,  by  a  series  of  literary  forgeries.  Macpherson  was  a 
Scotch  schoolmaster,  an  educated  man,  but  evidently  not 
over-tender  of  conscience,  whose  imagination  had  been  stirred 
by  certain  old  poems  which  he  may  have  heard  in  Gaelic 
among  the  Highlanders.  In  1760  he  published  his  Fragments 
of  Ancient  Poetry  collected  in  the  Highlands,  and  alleged 
that  his  work  was  but  a  translation  of  Gaelic  manuscripts. 
Whether  the  work  of  itself  would  have  attracted  attention  is 
doubtful ;  but  the  fact  that  an  abundance  of  literary  material 
might  be  awaiting  discovery  led  to  an  interest  such  as  now 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  335 

attends  the  opening  of  an  Egyptianf  tomb,  and  a  subscription 
was  promptly  raised  in  Edinburgh  to  send  Macpherson  through 
the  Highlands  to  collect  more  "  manuscripts."  The  result  was 
the  epic  Fingal  (1762),  "that  lank  and  lamentable  counterfeit 
of  poetry,"  as  Swinburne  calls  it,  which  the  author  professed 
to  have  translated  from  the  Gaelic  of  the  poet  Ossian.  Its 
success  was  astonishing,  and  Macpherson  followed  it  up  with 
Temora  (1763),  another  epic  in  the  same  strain.  In  both  these 
works  Macpherson  succeeds  in  giving  an  air  of  primal  grandeur 
to  his  heroes ;  the  characters  are  big  and  shadowy ;  the 
imagery  is  at  times  magnificent ;  the  language  is  a  kind  of 
chanting,  bombastic  prose : 

Now  Fingal  arose  in  his  might  and  thrice  he  reared  his  voice. 
Cromla  answered  around,  and  the  sons  of  the  desert  stood  still.  They 
bent  their  red  faces  to  earth,  ashamed  at  the  presence  of  Fingal.  He 
came  like  a  cloud  of  rain  in  the  days  of  the  sun,  when  slow  it  rolls  on 
the  hill,  and  fields  expect  the  shower.  Swaran  beheld  the  terrible  king 
of  Morven,  and  stopped  in  the  midst  of  his  course.  Dark  he  leaned  on 
his  spear  rolling  his  red  eyes  around.  Silent  and  tall  he  seemed  as  an 
oak  on  the  banks  of  Lubar,  which  had  its  branches  blasted  of  old  by  the 
lightning  of  heaven.  His  thousands  pour  around  the  hero,  and  the 
darkness  of  battle  gathers  on  the  hill.1 

The  publication  of  this  gloomy,  imaginative  work  produced  a 
literary  storm.  A  few  critics,  led  by  Dr.  Johnson,  demanded 
to  see  the  original  manuscripts,  and  when  Macpherson  refused 
to  produce  them,2  the  Ossianic  poems  were  branded  as  a 
forgery ;  nevertheless  they  had  enormous  success.  Macpher- 
son was  honored  as  a  literary  explorer ;  he  was  given  an 
official  position,  carrying  a  salary  for  life ;  and  at  his  death, 
in  1796,  he  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey.  Blake,  Burns, 
and  indeed  most  of  the  poets  of  the  age  were  influenced  by 

1  There  are  several  omissions  from  the  text  in  this  fragment  from  Fingal. 

2  Several  fragments  of  Gaelic  poetry,  attributed  to  Ossian  or  Oisin,  are  now  known 
to  have  existed  at  that  time  in  the  Highlands.    Macpherson  used  these  as  a  basis  for  his 
epic,  but  most  of  the  details  were  furnished  by  his  own  imagination.   The  alleged  text 
of  "  Ossian  "  was  published  in  1807,  some  eleven  years  after  Macpherson's  death.   It  only 
added  another  mystery  to  the  forgery ;  for,  while  it  embodied  a  few  old  and  probably  genuine 
fragments,  the  bulk  of  it  seems  to  be  Macpherson's  work  translated  back  into  Gaelic. 


336  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

this  sham  poetry.  Even  the  scholarly  Gray  was  deceived  and 
delighted  with  "  Ossian  "  ;  and  men  as  far  apart  as  Goethe 
and  Napoleon  praised  it  immoderately. 

Thomas  Chatterton  (1752-1770).  This  "marvelous  boy," 
to  whom  Keats  dedicated  his  "  Endymion,"  and  who  is  cele- 
brated in  Shelley's  "Adonais,"  is  one  of  the  saddest  and  most 
interesting  figures  of  the  romantic  revival.  During  his  child- 
hood he  haunted  the  old  church  of  St.  Mary  Redcliffe,  in 
Bristol,  where  he  was  fascinated  by  the  mediaeval  air  of  the 
place,  and  especially  by  one  old  chest,  known  as  Canynge's 
coffer,  containing  musty  documents  which  had  been  preserved 
for  three  hundred  years.  With  strange,  uncanny  intentness 
the  child  pored  over  these  relics  of  the  past,  copying  them 
instead  of  his  writing  book,  until  he  could  imitate  not  only 
the  spelling  and  language  but  even  the  handwriting  of 
the  original.  Soon  after  the  "Ossian"  forgeries  appeared, 
Chatterton  began  to  produce  documents,  apparently  very  old, 
containing  mediaeval  poems,  legends,  and  family  histories,  cen- 
tering around  two  characters,  —  Thomas  Rowley,  priest  and 
poet,  and  William  Canynge,  merchant  of  Bristol  in  the  days 
of  Henry  VI.  It  seems  incredible  that  the  whole  design  of 
these  mediaeval  romances  should  have  been  worked  out  by  a 
child  of  eleven,  and  that  he  could  reproduce  the  style  and  the 
writing  of  Caxton's  day  so  well  that  the  printers  were  de- 
ceived ;  but  such  is  the  fact.  More  and  more  Rowley  Papers, 
as  they  were  called,  were  produced  by  Chatterton,  —  appar- 
ently from  the  archives  of  the  old  church  ;  in  reality  from  his 
own  imagination,  —  delighting  a  large  circle  of  readers,  and 
deceiving  all  but  Gray  and  a  few  scholars  who  recognized  the 
occasional  misuse  of  fifteenth-century  English  words.  All 
this  work  was  carefully  finished,  and  bore  the  unmistakable 
stamp  of  literary  genius.  Reading  now  his  'VElla,"  or  the 
"  Ballad  of  Charite,"  or  the  long  poem  in  ballad  style  called 
"Bristowe  Tragedie,"  it  is  hard  to  realize  that  it  is  a  boy's 
work.  At  seventeen  years  of  age  Chatterton  went  for  a  literary 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  337 

career  to  London,  where  he  soon  afterwards  took  poison  and 
killed  himself  in  a  fit  of  childish  despondency,  brought  on  by 
poverty  and  hunger. 

Thomas  Percy  (1729-181 1).  To  Percy,  bishop  of  the  Irish 
church,  in  Dromore,  we  are  indebted  for  the  first  attempt  at 
a  systematic  collection  of  the  folk  songs  and  ballads  which  are 
counted  among  the  treasures  of  a  nation's  literature.1  In  1765 
he  published,  in  three  volumes,  his  famous  Reliques  of  Ancient 
English  Poetry.  The  most  valuable  part  of  this  work  is  the 
remarkable  collection  of  old  English  and  Scottish  ballads, 
such  as  "  Chevy  Chase,"  the  "  Nut  Brown  Mayde,"  "  Children 
of  the  Wood,"  "Battle  of  Otterburn,"  and  many  more,  which 
but  for  his  labor  might  easily  have  perished.  We  have  now 
much  better  and  more  reliable  editions  of  these  same  ballads  ; 
for  Percy  garbled  his  materials,  adding  and  subtracting  freely, 
and  even  inventing  a  few  ballads  of  his  own.  Two  motives 
probably  influenced  him  in  this.  First,  the  different  versions 
of  the  same  ballad  varied  greatly  ;  and  Percy,  in  changing 
them  to  suit  himself,  took  the  same  liberty  as  had  many  other 
writers  in  dealing  with  the  same  material.  Second,  Percy  was 
under  the  influence  of  Johnson  and  his  school,  and  thought 
it  necessary  to  add  a  few  elegant  ballads  "to  atone  for  the 
rudeness  of  the  more  obsolete  poems."  That  sounds  queer 
now,  used  as  we  are  to  exactness  in  dealing  with  historical 
and  literary  material ;  but  it  expresses  the  general  spirit  of 
the  age  in  which  he  lived. 

Notwithstanding  these  drawbacks,  Percy's  Reliques  marks 
an  epoch  in  the  history  of  Romanticism,  and  it  is  difficult  to 
measure  its  influence  on  the  whole  romantic  movement.  Scott 
says  of  it,  "  The  first  time  I  could  scrape  a  few  shillings  to- 
gether, I  bought  myself  a  copy  of  these  beloved  volumes  ;  nor 
do  I  believe  I  ever  read  a  book  half  so  frequently,  or  with  half 
the  enthusiasm."  Scott's  own  poetry  is  strongly  modeled 

1  For  various  other  collections  of  songs  and  ballads,  antedating  Percy's,  see  Phelps's 
Beginnings  of  the  English  Romantic  Movement,  ch.  vii. 


338  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

upon  these  early  ballads,  and  his  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish 
Border  is  due  chiefly  to  the  influence  of  Percy's  work. 

Besides  the  Reliques,  Percy  has  given  us  another  good 
work  in  his  Northern  Antiquities  (1770),  translated  from  the 
French  of  Mallet's  History  of  Denmark.  This  also  was  of 
immense  influence,  since  it  introduced  to  English  readers  a 
new  and  fascinating  mythology,  more  rugged  and  primitive 
than  that  of  the  Greeks ;  and  we  are  still,  in  music  as  in 
letters,  under  the  spell  of  Thor  and  Odin,  of  Frea  and  the 
Valkyr  maidens,  and  of  that  stupendous  drama  of  passion  and 
tragedy  which  ended  in  the  "Twilight  of  the  Gods."  The  lit- 
erary world  owes  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  Percy,  who  wrote 
nothing  of  importance  himself,  but  who,  by  collecting  and 
translating  the  works  of  other  men,  did  much  to  hasten  the 
triumph  of  Romanticism  in  the  nineteenth  century. 

III.    THE  FIRST  ENGLISH  NOVELISTS 

The  chief  literary  phenomena  of  the  complex  eighteenth 
century  are  the  reign  of  so-called  Classicism,  the  revival  of 
romantic  poetry,  and  the  discovery  of  the  modern  novel.  Of 
these  three,  the  last  is  probably  the  most  important.  Aside 
from  the  fact  that  the  novel  is  the  most  modern,  and  at  pres- 
ent the  most  widely  read  and  influential  type  of  literature, 
we  have  a  certain  pride  in  regarding  it  as  England's  original 
contribution  to  the  world  of  letters.  Other  great  types  of 
literature,  like  the  epic,  the  romance,  and  the  drama,  were 
first  produced  by  other  nations ;  but  the  idea  of  the  modern 
novel  seems  to  have  been  worked  out  largely  on  English  soil ; 1 
and  in  the  number  and  the  fine  quality  of  her  novelists,  Eng- 
land has  hardly  been  rivaled  by  any  other  nation.  Before  we 
study  the  writers  who  developed  this  new  type  of  literature, 
it  is  well  to  consider  briefly  its  meaning  and  history. 

1  The  first  books  to  which  the  term  "  novel,"  in  the  modern  sense,  may  be  applied, 
appeared  almost  simultaneously  in  England,  France,  and  Germany.  The  rapid  develop- 
ment of  the  English  novel  had  an  immense  influence  in  all  European  nations. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  339 

Meaning  of  the  Novel.  Probably  the  most  significant  remark 
made  by  the  ordinary  reader  concerning  a  work  of  fiction 
The  story  takes  the  form  of  a  question  :  Is  it  a  good  story  ? 
Element  por  the  reader  of  to-day  is  much  like  the  child  and 
the  primitive  man  in  this  respect,  that  he  must  be  attracted 
and  held  by  the  story  element  of  a  narrative  before  he  learns 
to  appreciate  its  style  or  moral  significance.  The  story  ele- 
ment is  therefore  essential  to  the  novel ;  but  where  the  story 
originates  is  impossible  to  say.  As  well  might  we  seek  for 
the  origin  of  the  race  ;  for  wherever  primitive  men  are  found, 
there  we  see  them  gathering  eagerly  about  the  story-teller. 
In  the  halls  of  our  Saxon  ancestors  the  scop  and  the  tale- 
bringer  were  ever  the  most  welcome  guests  ;  and  in  the  bark 
wigwams  of  the  American  Indians  the  man  who  told  the 
legends  of  Hiawatha  had  an  audience  quite  as  attentive  as 
that  which  gathered  at  the  Greek  festivals  to  hear  the  story 
of  Ulysses's  wanderings.  To  man's  instinct  or  innate  love  for 
a  story  we  are  indebted  for  all  our  literature ;  and  the  novel 
must  in  some  degree  satisfy  this  instinct,  or  fail  of  appreciation. 

The  second  question  which  we  ask  concerning  a  work  of 

fiction  is,  How  far  does  the  element  of  imagination  enter  into 

it  ?    For  upon  the  element  of  imagination  depends, 

The  Romance  .  i          r    £,.••* 

largely,  our  classification  ot  works  01  nction  into 
novels,  romances,  and  mere  adventure  stories.  The  divisions 
here  are  as  indefinite  as  the  border  land  between  childhood 
and  youth,  between  instinct  and  reason  ;  but  there  are  certain 
principles  to  guide  us.  We  note,  in  the  development  of  any 
normal  child,  that  there  comes  a  time  when  for  his  stories  he 
desires  knights,  giants,  elves,  fairies,  witches,  magic,  and 
marvelous  adventures  which  have  no  basis  in  experience. 
He  tells  extraordinary  tales  about  himself,  which  may  be  only 
the  vague  remembrances  of  a  dream  or  the  creations  of  a 
dawning  imagination, — both  of  which  are  as  real  to  him  as 
any  other  part  of  life.  When  we  say  that  such  a  child 
"romances,"  we  give  exactly  the  right  name  to  it;  for  this 


340  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

sudden  interest  in  extraordinary  beings  and  events  marks 
the  development  of  the  human  imagination,  —  running  riot  at 
first,  because  it  is  not  guided  by  reason,  which  is  a  later 
development,  —  and  to  satisfy  this  new  interest  the  romance l 
was  invented.  The  romance  is,  originally,  a  work  of  fiction 
in  which  the  imagination  is  given  full  play,  without  being 
limited  by  facts  or  probabilities.  It  deals  with  extraordinary 
events,  with  heroes  whose  powers  are  exaggerated,  and  often 
adds  the  element  of  superhuman  or  supernatural  characters. 
It  is  impossible  to  draw  the  line  where  romance  ends ;  but 
this  element  of  excessive  imagination  and  of  impossible  heroes 
and  incidents  is  its  distinguishing  mark  in  every  literature. 

Where  the  novel  begins  it  is  likewise  impossible  to  say  ;  but 

again  we  have  a  suggestion  in  the  experience  of  every  reader. 

There  comes  a  time,  naturally  and  inevitably,  in  the 

The  Novel        vr       r  ,,       ,  ,    ." 

life  of  every  youth  when  the  romance  no  longer  en- 
thralls him.  He  lives  in  a  world  of  facts  ;  gets  acquainted  with 
men  and  women,  some  good,  some  bad,  but  all  human  ;  and  he 
demands  that  literature  shall  express  life  as  he  knows  it  by  ex- 
perience. This  is  the  stage  of  the  awakened  intellect,  and  in  our 
stories  the  intellect  as  well  as  the  imagination  must  now  be 
satisfied.  At  the  beginning  of  this  stage  we  delight  in  Robin- 
son Crusoe;  we  read  eagerly  a  multitude  of  adventure  narra- 
tives and  a  few  so-called  historical  novels ;  but  in  each  case 
we  must  be  lured  by  a  story,  must  find  heroes  and  "  moving 
accidents  by  flood  and  field"  to  appeal  to  our  imagination; 
and  though  the  hero  and  the  adventure  may  be  exaggerated, 
they  must  both  be  natural  and  within  the  bounds  of  probabil- 
ity. Gradually  the  element  of  adventure  or  surprising  inci- 
dent grows  less  and  less  important,  as  we  learn  that  true  life 
is  not  adventurous,  but  a  plain,  heroic  matter  of  work  and 

1  The  name  "  romance  "  was  given  at  first  to  any  story  in  one  of  the  Romance  lan- 
guages, like  the  French  metrical  romances,  which  we  have  considered.  Because  these 
stories  were  brought  to  England  at  a  time  when  the  childish  mind  of  the  Middle  Ages 
delighted  in  the  most  impossible  stories,  the  name  "  romance  "  was  retained  to  cover  any 
work  of  the  unbridled  imagination. 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  341 

duty,  and  the  daily  choice  between  good  and  evil.  Life  is  the 
most  real  thing  in  the  world  now,  —  not  the  life  of  kings,  or 
heroes,  or  superhuman  creatures,  but  the  individual  life  with 
its  struggles  and  temptations  and  triumphs  or  failures,  like 
our  own  ;  and  any  work  that  faithfully  represents  life  becomes 
interesting.  So  we  drop  the  adventure  story  and  turn  to  the 
novel.  For  the  novel  is  a  work  of  fiction  in  which  the  imagi- 
nation and  the  intellect  combine  to  express  life  in  the  form  of 
a  story  ;  and  the  imagination  is  always  directed  and  controlled 
by  the  intellect.  It  is  interested  chiefly,  not  in  romance  or 
adventure,  but  in  men  and  women  as  they  are ;  it  aims  to 
show  the  motives  and  influences  which  govern  human  life, 
and  the  effects  of  personal  choice  upon  character  and  destiny. 
Such  is  the  true  novel,1  and  as  such  it  opens  a  wider  and 
more  interesting  field  than  any  other  type  of  literature. 

Precursors  of  the  Novel.  Before  the  novel  could  reach  its 
modern  stage,  of  a  more  or  less  sincere  attempt  to  express 
human  life  and  character,  it  had  to  pass  through  several  cen- 
turies of  almost  imperceptible  development.  Among  the  early 
precursors  of  the  novel  we  must  place  a  collection  of  tales 
known  as  the  Greek  Romances,  dating  from  the  second  to  the 
sixth  centuries.  These  are  imaginative  and  delightful  stories 
of  ideal  love  and  marvelous  adventure,2  which  profoundly 

1  This  division  of  works  of  fiction  into  romances  and  novels  is  a  somewhat  arbitrary 
one,  but  it  seems,  on  the  whole,  the  most  natural  and  the  most  satisfactory.    Many 
writers  use  the  generic  term  "  novel "  to  include  all  prose  fiction.    They  divide  novels 
into  two  classes,  stories  and  romances  ;  the  story  being  a  form  of  the  novel  which  relates 
certain  incidents  of  life  with  as  little  complexity  as  possible;  and  the  romance  being  a 
form  of  novel  which  describes  life  as  led  by  strong  emotions  into  complex  and  unusual 
circumstances.    Novels  are  otherwise  divided  into  novels  of  personality,  like  The  Vicar 
of  Wakefield  and  Silas  Marner ;  historical  novels,  like  Ivanhoe ;  novels  of  romance, 
like  Lorna  Doone ;  and  novels  of  purpose,  like  Oliver  Twist  and  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 
All  such  classifications  are  imperfect,  and  the  best  of  them  is  open  to  objections. 

2  One  of  these  tales  was  called  The  Wonderful  Things  beyond  Thule.    It  is  the 
story  of  a  youth,  Dinias,  who  for  love  of  a  girl,  Dercyllis,  did  heroic  things  and  under- 
took many  adventures,  including  a  journey  to  the  frozen  north,  and  another  to  the  moon. 
A  second  tale,  Ephesiaca,  is  the  story  of  a  man  and  a  maid,  each  of  whom  scoffs  at  love. 
They  meet  and  fall  desperately  in  love ;  but  the  course  of  true  love  does  not  run  smooth, 
and  they  separate,  and  suffer,  and  go  through  many  perils,  before  they  "  live  happily  ever 
after."    This  tale  is  the  source  of  the  mediaeval  story,  Apollonius  of  Tyre,  which  is  used 
in  Gower's  Confessio  Amantis  and  in  Shakespeare's  Pericles.  A  third  tale  is  the  pastoral 
love  story,  Daphnis  and  Chloe,  which  reappeared  in  many  forms  in  subsequent  literature. 


342  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

affected  romance  writing  for  the  next  thousand  years.  A  second 
group  of  predecessors  is  found  in  the  Italian  and  Spanish  pas- 
toral romances,  which  were  inspired  by  the  Eclogues  of  Virgil. 
These  were  extremely  popular  in  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth 
centuries,  and  their  influence  is  seen  later  in  Sidney's  Arcadia, 
which  is  the  best  of  this  type  in  English. 

The  third  and  most  influential  group  of  predecessors  of  the 
novel  is  made  up  of  the  romances  of  chivalry,  such  as  are 
found  in  Malory's  Morte  d'ArtJmr.  It  is  noticeable,  in  read- 
ing these  beautiful  old  romances  in  different  languages,  that 
each  nation  changes  them  somewhat,  so  as  to  make  them 
more  expressive  of  national  traits  and  ideals.  In  a  word,  the 
old  romance  tends  inevitably  towards  realism,  especially  in 
England,  where  the  excessive  imagination  is  curbed  and  the 
heroes  become  more  human.  In  Malory,  in  the  unknown 
author  of  Sir  Gawain  and  the  Green  KnigJit,  and  especially 
in  Chaucer,  we  see  the  effect  of  the  practical  English  mind 
in  giving  these  old  romances  a  more  natural  setting,  and  in 
making  the  heroes  suggest,  though  faintly,  the  men  and 
women  of  their  own  day.  The  Canterbury  Tales,  with  their 
story  interest  and  their  characters  delightfully  true  to  nature, 
have  in  them  the  suggestion,  at  least,  of  a  connected  story 
whose  chief  aim  is  to  reflect  life  as  it  is. 

In  the  Elizabethan  Age  the  idea  of  the  novel  grows  more 
definite.  In  Sidney's  Arcadia  (1580),  a  romance  of  chivalry, 
the  pastoral  setting  at  least  is  generally  true  to  nature ;  our 
credulity  is  not  taxed,  as  in  the  old  romances,  by  the  continual 
appearance  of  magic  or  miracles  ;  and  the  characters,  though 
idealized  till  they  become  tiresome,  occasionally  give  the  im- 
pression of  being  real  men  and  women.  In  Bacon's  The  New 
Atlantis  (1627)  we  have  the  story  of  the  discovery  by  mari- 
ners of  an  unknown  country,  inhabited  by  a  superior  race  of 
men,  more  civilized  than  ourselves,  —  an  idea  which  had  been 
used  by  More  in  his  Utopia  in  1516.  These  two  books  are 
neither  romances  nor  novels,  in  the  strict  sense,  but  studies 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  343 

of  social  institutions.  They  use  the  connected  story  as  a 
means  of  teaching  moral  lessons,  and  of  bringing  about  needed 
reforms ;  and  this  valuable  suggestion  has  been  adopted  by 
many  of  our  modern  writers  in  the  so-called  problem  novels 
and  novels  of  purpose. 

Nearer  to  the  true  novel  is  Lodge's  romantic  story  of 
Rosalynde,  which  was  used  by  Shakespeare  in  As  You  Like  It. 
This  was  modeled  upon  the  Italian  novella,  or  short  story, 
which  became  very  popular  in  England  during  the  Elizabethan 
Age.  In  the  same  age  we  have  introduced  into  England  the 
Spanish  picaresque  novel  (from  picaro,  a  knave  or  rascal), 
which  at  first  was  a  kind  of  burlesque  on  the  mediaeval  ro- 
mance, and  which  took  for  its  hero  some  low  scoundrel  or 
outcast,  instead  of  a  knight,  and  followed  him  through  a  long 
career  of  scandals  and  villainies.  One  of  the  earliest  types  of 
this  picaresque  novel  in  English  is  Nash's  The  Unfortunate 
Traveller,  or  the  Life  of  Jack  Wilton  (1594),  which  is  also  a 
forerunner  of  the  historical  novel,  since  its  action  takes  place 
during  that  gorgeous  interview  between  Henry  VIII  and  the 
king  of  France  on  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold.  In  all 
these  short  stories  and  picaresque  novels  the  emphasis  was 
laid  not  so  much  on  life  and  character  as  on  the  adventures 
of  the  hero  ;  and  the  interest  consisted  largely  in  wondering 
what  would  happen  next,  and  how  the  plot  would  end.  The 
same  method  is  employed  in  all  trashy  novels  and  it  is  es- 
pecially the  bane  of  many  modern  story-writers.  This  exces- 
sive interest  in  adventures  or  incidents  for  their  own  sake, 
and  not  for  their  effect  on  character,  is  what  distinguishes 
the  modern  adventure  story  from  the  true  novel. 

In  the  Puritan  Age  we  approach  still  nearer  to  the  modern 
novel,  especially  in  the  work  of  Bunyan  ;  and  as  the  Puritan 
always  laid  emphasis  on  character,  stories  appeared  having 
a  definite  moral  purpose.  Bunyan's  The  Pilgrim  s  Progress 
(1678)  differs  from  the  Faery  Queen,  and  from  all  other 
mediaeval  allegories,  in  this  important  respect,  —  that  the 


344  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

characters,  far  from  being  bloodless  abstractions,  are  but  thinly 
disguised  men  and  women.  Indeed,  many  a  modern  man, 
reading  the  story  of  Christian,  has  found  in  it  the  reflection 
of  his  own  life  and  experience.  In  The  Life  and  Death  of 
Mr.  B adman  (1682)  we  have  another  and  even  more  realistic 
study  of  a  man  as  he  was  in  Bunyan's  day.  These  two  strik- 
ing figures,  Christian  and  Mr.  Badman,  belong  among  the 
great  characters  of  English  fiction.  Bunyan's  good  work,  — his 
keen  insight,  his  delineation  of  character,  and  his  emphasis 
upon  the  moral  effects  of  individual  action, — was  carried  on  by 
Addison  and  Steele  some  thirty  years  later.  The  character 
of  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  is  a  real  reflection  of  English  country 
life  in  the  eighteenth  century ;  and  with  Steele's  domestic 
sketches  in  The  Tatler,  The  Spectator,  and  The  Guardian 
(1709-1713),  we  definitely  cross  the  border  land  that  lies  out- 
side of  romance,  and  enter  the  region  of  character  study 
where  the  novel  has  its  beginning. 

The  Discovery  of  the  Modern  Novel.  Notwithstanding  this 
long  history  of  fiction,  to  which  we  have  called  attention,  it 
is  safe  to  say  that,  until  the  publication  of  Richardson's 
Pamela,  in  1740,  no  true  novel  had  appeared  in  any  litera- 
ture. By  a  true  novel  we  mean  simply  a  work  of  fiction 
which  relates  the  story  of  a  plain  human  life,  under  stress  of 
emotion,  which  depends  for  its  interest  not  on  incident  or 
adventure,  but  on  its  truth  to  nature.  A  number  of  English 
novelists — Goldsmith,  Richardson,  Fielding,  Smollett,  Sterne 
—  all  seem  to  have  seized  upon  the  idea  of  reflecting  life  as 
it  is,  in  the  form  of  a  story,  and  to  have  developed  it  simulta- 
neously. The  result  was  an  extraordinary  awakening  of  in- 
terest, especially  among  people  who  had  never  before  been 
greatly  concerned  with  literature.  We  are  to  remember  that, 
in  previous  periods,  the  number  of  readers  was  comparatively 
small ;  and  that,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  writers  like 
Langland  and  Bunyan,  authors  wrote  largely  for  the  upper 
classes.  In  the  eighteenth  century  the  spread  of  education 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  345 

and  the  appearance  of  newspapers  and  magazines  led  to  an 
immense  increase  in  the  number  of  readers ;  and  at  the  same 
time  the  middle-class  people  assumed  a  foremost  place  in 
English  life  and  history.  These  new  readers  and  this  new, 
powerful  middle  class  had  no  classic  tradition  to  hamper  them. 
They  cared  little  for  the  opinions  of  Dr.  Johnson  and  the 
famous  Literary  Club ;  and,  so  far  as  they  read  fiction  at  all, 
they  apparently  took  little  interest  in  the  exaggerated  ro- 
mances of  impossible  heroes  and  the  picaresque  stories  of 
intrigue  and  villainy  which  had  interested  the  upper  classes. 
Some  new  type  of  literature  was  demanded,  and  this  new 
type  must  express  the  new  ideal  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
namely,  the  value  and  the  importance  of  the  individual  life. 
So  the  novel  was  born,  expressing,  though  in  a  different  way, 
exactly  the  same  ideals  of  personality  and  of  the  dignity  of 
common  life  which  were  later  proclaimed  in  the  American 
and  in  the  French  Revolution,  and  were  welcomed  with  re- 
joicing by  the  poets  of  the  romantic  revival.  To  tell  men, 
not  about  knights  or  kings  or  types  of  heroes,  but  about 
themselves  in  the  guise  of  plain  men  and  women,  about  their 
own  thoughts  and  motives  and  struggles,  and  the  results  of 
actions  upon  their  own  characters,  —  this  was  the  purpose  of 
our  first  novelists.  The  eagerness  with  which  their  chapters 
were  read  in  England,  and  the  rapidity  with  which  their  work 
was  copied  abroad,  show  how  powerfully  the  new  discovery 
appealed  to  readers  everywhere. 

Before  we  consider  the  work  of  these  writers  who  first  devel- 
oped the  modern  novel,  we  must  glance  at  the  work  of  a  pioneer, 
Daniel  Defoe,  whom  we  place  among  the  early  novelists  for  the 
simple  reason  that  we  know  not  how  else  to  classify  him. 

DANIEL  DEFOE  (i66i(?)-i73i) 

To  Defoe  is  often  given  the  credit  for  the  discovery  of  the 
modern  novel ;  but  whether  or  not  he  deserves  that  honor  is 
an  open  question.  Even  a  casual  reading  of  Robinson  Crusoe 


346 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


(1719),  which  generally  heads  the  list  of  modern  fiction, 
shows  that  this  exciting  tale  is  largely  an  adventure  story, 
rather  than  the  study  of  human  character  which  Defoe  prob- 
ably intended  it  to  be.  Young  people  still  read  it  as  they 
might  a  dime  novel,  skipping  its  moralizing  passages  and 
hurrying  on  to  more  adventures ;  but  they  seldom  appreciate 
the  excellent  mature  reasons  which  banish  the  dime  novel  to 
a  secret  place  in  the  haymow,  while  Crusoe  hangs  proudly  on 

the  Christmas  tree  or 
holds  an  honored  place 
on  the  family  book- 
shelf. Defoe's  Appa  ri- 
tion  of  Mrs.  Veal, 
Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier, 
and  Journal  of  the 
Plague  Year  are  such 
mixtures  of  fact,  fic- 
tion, and  credulity 
that  they  defy  classi- 
fication ;  while  other 
so-called  "novels," 
like  Captain  Single- 
ton, Moll  Flanders, 
and  Roxana,  are  but 
little  better  than  pica- 
resque stories,  with  a 
deal  of  unnatural  moralizing  and  repentance  added  for  puri- 
tanical effect.  In  Crusoe,  Defoe  brought  the  realistic  adven- 
ture story  to  a  very  high  stage  of  its  development ;  but  his 
works  hardly  deserve  to  be  classed  as  true  novels,  which  must 
subordinate  incident  to  the  faithful  portrayal  of  human  life  and 
character. 

Life.  Defoe  was  the  son  of  a  London  butcher  named  Foe,  and 
kept  his  family  name  until  he  was  forty  years  of  age,  when  he  added 
the  aristocratic  prefix  with  which  we  have  grown  familiar.  The 


DANIEL  DEFOE 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  347 

events  of  his  busy  seventy  years  of  life,  in  which  he  passed  through 
all  extremes,  from  poverty  to  wealth,  from  prosperous  brickmaker 
to  starveling  journalist,  from  Newgate  prison  to  immense  popularity 
and  royal  favor,  are  obscure  enough  in  details ;  but  four  facts  stand 
out  clearly,  which  help  the  reader  to  understand  the  character  of 
his  work.  First,  Defoe  was  a  jack-at-all-trades,  as  well  as  a  writer ; 
his  interest  was  largely  with  the  working  classes,  and  notwithstand- 
ing many  questionable  practices,  he  seems  to  have  had  some  con- 
tinued purpose  of  educating  and  uplifting  the  common  people. 
This  partially  accounts  for  the  enormous  popularity  of  his  works, 
and  for  the  fact  that  they  were  criticised  by  literary  men  as  being 
"  fit  only  for  the  kitchen."  Second,  he  was  a  radical  Nonconformist 
in  religion,  and  was  intended  by  his  father  for  the  independent 
ministry.  The  Puritan  zeal  for  reform  possessed  him,  and  he  tried 
to  do  by  his  pen  what  Wesley  was  doing  by  his  preaching,  without, 
however,  having  any  great  measure  of  the  latter's  sincerity  or  single- 
ness of  purpose.  This  zeal  for  reform  marks  all  his  numerous  works, 
and  accounts  for  the  moralizing  to  be  found  everywhere.  Third, 
Defoe  was  a  journalist  and  pamphleteer,  with  a  reporter's  eye  for 
the  picturesque  and  a  newspaper  man's  instinct  for  making  a  "  good 
story."  He  wrote  an  immense  number  of  pamphlets,  poems,  and 
magazine  articles ;  conducted  several  papers,  —  one  of  the  most 
popular,  the  Review,  being  issued  from  prison,  —  and  the  fact  that 
they  often  blew  hot  and  cold  upon  the  same  question  was  hardly 
noticed.  Indeed,  so  extraordinarily  interesting  and  plausible  were 
Defoe's  articles  that  he  generally  managed  to  keep  employed  by  the 
party  in  power,  whether  Whig  or  Tory.  This  long  journalistic  career, 
lasting  half  a  century,  accounts  for  his  direct,  simple,  narrative  style, 
which  holds  us  even  now  by  its  intense  reality.  To  Defoe's  genius 
we  are  also  indebted  for  two  discoveries,  the  "interview"  and  the 
leading  editorial,  both  of  which  are  still  in  daily  use  in  our  best 
newspapers. 

The  fourth  fact  to  remember  is  that  Defoe  knew  prison  life ;  and 
thereby  hangs  a  tale.  In  1702  Defoe  published  a  remarkable  pam- 
phlet called  "The  Shortest  Way  with  the  Dissenters,"  supporting 
the  claims  of  the  free  churches  against  the  "  High  Fliers,"  i.e.  Tories 
and  Anglicans.  In  a  vein  of  grim  humor  which  recalls  Swift's 
"  Modest  Proposal,"  Defoe  advocated  hanging  all  dissenting  minis- 
ters, and  sending  all  members  of  the  free  churches  into  exile ;  and 
so  ferociously  realistic  was  the  satire  that  both  Dissenters  and  Tories 


348  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

took  the  author  literally.  Defoe  was  tried,  found  guilty  of  seditious 
libel,  and  sentenced  to  be  fined,  to  stand  three  days  in  the  pillory, 
and  to  be  imprisoned.  Hardly  had  the  sentence  been  pronounced 
when  Defoe  wrote  his  "  Hymn  to  the  Pillory,"  — 

Hail  hieroglyphic  state  machine, 
Contrived  to  punish  fancy  in,  — 

a  set  of  doggerel  verses  ridiculing  his  prosecutors,  which  Defoe, 
with  a  keen  eye  for  advertising,  scattered  all  over  London.  Crowds 
flocked  to  cheer  him  in  the  pillory ;  and  seeing  that  Defoe  was  mak- 
ing popularity  out  of  persecution,  his  enemies  bundled  him  off  to 
Newgate  prison.  He  turned  this  experience  also  to  account  by  pub- 
lishing a  popular  newspaper,  and  by  getting  acquainted  with  rogues, 
pirates,  smugglers,  and  miscellaneous  outcasts,  each  one  with  a 
"good  story"  to  be  used  later.  After  his  release  from  prison,  in 
1704,  he  turned  his  knowledge  of  criminals  to  further  account,  and 
entered  the  government  employ  as  a  kind  of  spy  or  secret-service 
agent.  His  prison  experience,  and  the  further  knowledge  of  crim- 
inals gained  in  over  twenty  years  as  a  spy,  accounts  for  his  numerous 
stories 'of  thieves  and  pirates,  Vkz  Jonathan  ZJWand  Captain  Avery, 
and  also  for  his  later  novels,  which  deal  almost  exclusively  with 
villains  and  outcasts. 

When  Defoe  was  nearly  sixty  years  of  age  he  turned  to  fiction 
and  wrote  the  great  work  by  which  he  is  remembered.  Robinson 
Crusoe  was  an  instant  success,  and  the  author  became  famous  all 
over  Europe.  Other  stories  followed  rapidly,  and  Defoe  earned 
money  enough  to  retire  to  Newington  and  live  in  comfort ;  but  not 
idly,  for  his  activity  in  producing  fiction  is  rivaled  only  by  that  of 
Walter  Scott.  Thus,  in  1720  appeared  Captain  Singleton,  Duncan 
Campbell,  and  Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier ;  in  1722,  Colonel  Jack,  Moll 
Flanders,  and  the  amazingly  realistic  Journal  of  the  Plague  Year. 
So  the  list  grows  with  astonishing  rapidity,  ending  with  the  History 
of  the  Devil  in  1726. 

In  the  latter  year  Defoe's  secret  connection  with  the  government 
became  known,  and  a  great  howl  of  indignation  rose  against  him  in 
the  public  print,  destroying  in  an  hour  the  popularity  which  he  had 
gained  by  a  lifetime  of  intrigue  and  labor.  He  fled  from  his  home 
to  London,  where  he  died  obscurely,  in  1731,  while  hiding  from  real 
or  imaginary  enemies. 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  349 

Works  of  Defoe.  At  the  head  of  the  list  stands  Robinson 
Crusoe  (1719-1720),  one  of  the  few  books  in  any  literature 
which  has  held  its  popularity  undiminished  for  nearly  two 
centuries.  The  story  is  based  upon  the  experiences  of  Alex- 
ander Selkirk,  or  Selcraig,  who  had  been  marooned  in  the 
island  of  Juan  Fernandez,  off  the  coast  of  Chile,  and  who  had 
lived  there  in  solitude  for  five  years.  On  his  return  to  Eng- 
land in  1709,  Selkirk's  experiences  became  known,  and  Steele 
published  an  account  of  them  in  The  Englishman,  without, 
however,  attracting  any  wide  attention.  That  Defoe  used 
Selkirk's  story  is  practically  certain  ;  but  with  his  usual  du- 
plicity he  claimed  to  have  written  Crusoe  in  1708,  a  year 
before  Selkirk's  return.  However  that  may  be,  the  story 
itself  is  real  enough  to  have  come  straight  from  a  sailor's  log- 
book. Defoe,  as  shown  in  his  Journal  of  the  Plague  Year  and 
his  Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier,  had  the  art  of  describing  things  he 
had  never  seen  with  the  minute  accuracy  of  an  eyewitness. 

The  charm  of  the  story  is  its  intense  reality,  in  the  succes- 
sion of  thoughts,  feelings,  incidents,  which  every  reader  rec- 
Robinson  ognizes  to  be  absolutely  true  to  life.  At  first  glance 
Crusoe  jj-  WOuld  seem  that  one  man  on  a  desert  island 

could  not  possibly  furnish  the  material  for  a  long  story  ;  but 
as  we  read  we  realize  with  amazement  that  every  slightest 
thought  and  action  —  the  saving  of  the  cargo  of  the  ship- 
wrecked vessel,  the  preparation  for  defense  against  imaginary 
foes,  the  intense  agitation  over  the  discovery  of  a  footprint  in 
the  sand  —  is  a  record  of  what  the  reader  himself  would  do 
and  feel  if  he  were  alone  in  such  a  place.  Defoe's  long  and 
varied  experience  now  stood  him  in  good  stead ;  in  fact,  he 
"was  the  only  man  of  letters  in  his  time  who  might  have 
been  thrown  on  a  desert  island  without  finding  himself  at  a 
loss  what  to  do  ; " 1  and  he  puts  himself  so  perfectly  in  his 
hero's  place  that  he  repeats  his  blunders  as  well  as  his  tri- 
umphs. Thus,  what  reader  ever  followed  Defoe's  hero  through 

1  Minto's  Life  of  Defoe,  p.  139. 


350  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

weary,  feverish  months  of  building  a  huge  boat,  which  was 
too  big  to  be  launched  by  one  man,  without  recalling  some 
boy  who  spent  many  stormy  days  in  shed  or  cellar  building 
a  boat  or  dog  house,  and  who,  when  the  thing  was  painted 
and  finished,  found  it  a  foot  wider  than  the  door,  and  had  to 
knock  it  to  pieces  ?  This  absolute  naturalness  characterizes 
the  whole  story.  It  is  a  study  of  the  human  will  also,  —  of 
patience,  fortitude,  and  the  indomitable  Saxon  spirit  overcom- 
ing all  obstacles  ;  and  it  was  this  element  which  made  Rous- 
seau recommend  Robinson  Crusoe  as  a  better  treatise  on 
education  than  anything  which  Aristotle  or  the  moderns  had 
ever  written.  And  this  suggests  the  most  significant  thing 
about  Defoe's  masterpiece,  namely,  that  the  hero  represents 
the  whole  of  human  society,  doing  with  his  own  hands  all  the 
things  which,  by  the  division  of  labor  and  the  demands  of 
modern  civilization,  are  now  done  by  many  different  workers. 
He  is  therefore  the  type  of  the  whole  civilized  race  of  men. 

In  the  remaining  works  of  Defoe,  more  than  two  hundred 
in  number,  there  is  an  astonishing  variety  ;  but  all  are  marked 
by  the  same  simple,  narrative  style,  and  the  same  intense 
realism.  The  best  known  of  these  are  the  Journal  of  the 
Plague  Year,  in  which  the  horrors  of  a  frightful  plague  are 
minutely  recorded  ;  the  Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier,  so  realistic 
that  Chatham  quoted  it  as  history  in  Parliament ;  and  several 
picaresque  novels,  like  Captain  Singleton,  Colonel  Jack,  Moll 
Flanders,  and  Roxana.  The  last  work  is  by  some  critics 
given  a  very  high  place  in  realistic  fiction,  but  like  the  other 
three,  and  like  Defoe's  minor  narratives  of  Jack  Sheppard  and 
Cartouche,  it  is  a  disagreeable  study  of  vice,  ending  with  a 
forced  and  unnatural  repentance. 

SAMUEL  RICHARDSON  (1689-1761) 

To  Richardson  belongs  the  credit  of  writing  the  first  mod- 
ern novel.  He  was  the  son  of  a  London  joiner,  who,  for 
economy's  sake,  resided  in  some  unknown  town  in  Derbyshire, 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  351 

where  Samuel  was  born  in  1689.  The  boy  received  very 
little  education,  but  he  had  a  natural  talent  for  writing  let- 
ters, and  even  as  a  boy  we  find  him  frequently  employed 
by  working-girls  to  write  their  love  letters  for  them.  This 
early  experience,  together  with  his  fondness  for  the  society 
of  "his  dearest  ladies"  rather  than  of  men,  gave  him  that 
intimate  knowledge  of  the  hearts  of  sentimental  and  unedu- 
cated women  which  is  manifest  in  all  his  work.  Moreover,  he 
was  a  keen  observer  of  manners,  and  his  surprisingly  accurate 
descriptions  often  compel  us  to  listen,  even  when  he  is  most 
tedious.  At  seventeen  years  of  age  he  went  to  London  and 
learned  the  printer's  trade,  which  he  followed  to  the  end  of 
his  life.  When  fifty  years  of  age  he  had  a  small  reputation 
as  a  writer  of  elegant  epistles,  and  this  reputation  led  certain 
publishers  to  approach  him  with  a  proposal  that  he  write  a 
series  of  Familiar  Letters,  which  could  be  used  as  models  by 
people  unused  to  writing.  Richardson  gladly  accepted  the 
proposal,  and  had  the  happy  inspiration  to  make  these  letters 
tell  the  connected  story  of  a  girl's  life.  Defoe  had  told  an 
adventure  story  of  human  life  on  a  desert  island,  but  Rich- 
ardson would  tell  the  story  of  a  girl's  inner  life  in  the  midst 
of  English  neighbors.  That  sounds  simple  enough  now,  but 
it  marked  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  literature.  Like  every 
other  great  and  simple  discovery,  it  makes  us  wonder  why 
some  one  had  not  thought  of  it  before. 

Richardson's  Novels.  The  result  of  Richardson's  inspira- 
tion was  Pamela,  or  Virtue  Rewarded,  an  endless  series  of 
letters  1  telling  of  the  trials,  tribulations,  and  the  final  happy 
marriage  of  a  too  sweet  young  maiden,  published  in  four  vol- 
umes extending  over  the  years  1740  and  1741.  Its  chief 
fame  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  is  our  first  novel  in  the  modern 
sense.  Aside  from  this  important  fact,  and  viewed  solely  as 

1  These  were  not  what  the  booksellers  expected.  They  wanted  a  "handy  letter 
writer,"  something  like  a  book  of  etiquette;  and  it  was  published  in  1741,  a  few  months 
after  Pamela. 


352  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

a  novel,  it  is  sentimental,  grandiloquent,  and  wearisome.  Its- 
success  at  the  time  was  enormous,  and  Richardson  began 
another  series  of  letters  (he  could  tell  a  story  in  no  other 
way)  which  occupied  his  leisure  hours  for  the  next  six  years. 
The  result  was  Clarissa,  or  The  History  of  a  Young  Lady, 
published  in  eight  volumes  in  1747—1748.  This  was  another, 
and  somewhat  better,  sentimental  novel ;  and  it  was  received 
with  immense  enthusiasm.  Of  all  Richardson's  heroines 
Clarissa  is  the  most  human.  In  her  doubts  and  scruples  of 
conscience,  and  especially  in  her  bitter  grief  and  humiliation, 
she  is  a  real  woman,  in  marked  contrast  with  the  mechanical 
hero,  Lovelace,  who  simply  illustrates  the  author's  inability  to 
portray  a  man's  character.  The  dramatic  element  in  this  novel 
is  strong,  and  is  increased  by  means  of  the  letters,  which 
enable  the  reader  to  keep  close  to  the  characters  of  the  story 
and  to  see  life  from  their  different  view  points.  Macaulay,  who 
was  deeply  impressed  by  Clarissa,  is  said  to  have  made  the 
remark  that,  were  the  novel  lost,  he  could  restore  almost  the 
whole  of  it  from  memory. 

Richardson  now  turned  from  his  middle-class  heroines,  and 
in  five  or  six  years  completed  another  series  of  letters,  in 
which  he  attempted  to  tell  the  story  of  a  man  and  an  aristo- 
crat. The  result  was  Sir  Charles  Grandison  (1754),  a  novel 
in  seven  volumes,  whose  hero  was  intended  to  be  a  model  of 
aristocratic  manners  and  virtues  for  the  middle-class  people, 
who  largely  constituted  the  novelist's  readers.  For  Richard- 
son, who  began  in  Pamela  with  the  purpose  of  teaching  his 
hearers  how  to  write,  ended  with  the  deliberate  purpose  of 
teaching  them  how  to  live ;  and  in  most  of  his  work  his  chief 
object  was,  in  his  own  words,  to  inculcate  virtue  and  good 
deportment.  His  novels,  therefore,  suffer  as  much  from  his 
purpose  as  from  his  own  limitations.  Notwithstanding  his 
tedious  moralizing  and  his  other  defects,  Richardson  in  these 
three  books  gave  something  entirely  new  to  the  literary  world, 
and  the  world  appreciated  the  gift.  This  was  the  story  of 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  353 

human  life,  told  from  within,  and  depending  for  its  interest 
not  on  incident  or  adventure,  but  on  its  truth  to  human  nature. 
Reading  his  work  is,  on  the  whole,  like  examining  the  anti- 
quated model  of  a  stern-wheel  steamer ;  it  is  interesting  for 
its  undeveloped  possibilities  rather  than  for  its  achievement. 

HENRY  FIELDING  (1707-1754) 

Life.  Judged  by  his  ability  alone,  Fielding  was  the  greatest  of 
this  new  group  of  novel  writers,  and  one  of  the  most  artistic  that 
our  literature  has  produced.  He  was  born  in  East  Stour,  Dorset- 
shire, in  1707.  In  contrast  with  Richardson,  he  was  well  educated, 
having  spent  several  years  at  the  famous  Eton  school,  and  taken 
a  degree  in  letters  at  the  University  of  Leyden  in  1728.  Moreover, 
he  had  a  deeper  knowledge  of  life,  gained  from  his  own  varied  and 
sometimes  riotous  experience.  For  several  years  after  returning 
from  Leyden  he  gained  a  precarious  living  by  writing  plays,  farces, 
and  buffooneries  for  the  stage.  In  1735  he  married  an  admirable 
woman,  of  whom  we  have  glimpses  in  two  of  his  characters,  Amelia, 
and  Sophia  Western,  and  lived  extravagantly  on  her  little  fortune  at 
East  Stour.  Having  used  up  all  his  money,  he  returned  to  London 
and  studied  law,  gaining  his  living  by  occasional  plays  and  by  news- 
paper work.  For  ten  years,  or  more,  little  is  definitely  known  of 
him,  save  that  he  published  his  first  novel,  Joseph  Andrews,  in  1742, 
and  that  he  was  made  justice  of  the  peace  for  Westminster  in  1748. 
The  remaining  years  of  his  life,  in  which  his  best  novels  were 
written,  were  not  given  to  literature,  but  rather  to  his  duties  as 
magistrate,  and  especially  to  breaking  up  the  gangs  of  thieves  and 
cutthroats  which  infested  the  streets  of  London  after  nightfall.  He 
died  in  Lisbon,  whither  he  had  gone  for  his  health,  in  1754,  and 
lies  buried  there  in  the  English  cemetery.  The  pathetic  account  of 
this  last  journey,  together  with  an  inkling  of  the  generosity  and 
kind-heartedness  of  the  man,  notwithstanding  the  scandals  and 
irregularities  of  his  life,  are  found  in  his  last  work,  the  Journal  of  a 
Voyage  to  Lisbon. 

Fielding's  Work.  Fielding's  first  novel,  Joseph  Andrews 
(1742),  was  inspired  by  the  success  of  Pamela,  and  began  as 
a  burlesque  of  the  false  sentimentality  and  the  conventional 


354  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

virtues  of  Richardson's  heroine.  He  took  for  his  hero  the 
alleged  brother  of  Pamela,  who  was  exposed  to  the  same  kind 
of  temptations,  but  who,  instead  of  being  rewarded  for  his 
virtue,  was  unceremoniously  turned  out  of  doors  by  his  mis- 
tress. There  the  burlesque  ends  ;  the  hero  takes  to  the  open 
road,  and  Fielding  forgets  all  about  Pamela  in  telling  the 
adventures  of  Joseph  and  his  companion,  Parson  Adams. 
Unlike  Richardson,  who  has  no  humor,  who  minces  words, 
and  moralizes,  and  dotes  on  the  sentimental  woes  of  his  hero- 
ines, Fielding  is  direct,  vigorous,  hilarious,  and  coarse  to  the 
point  of  vulgarity.  He  is  full  of  animal  spirits,  and  he  tells 
the  story  of  a  vagabond  life,  not  for  the  sake  of  moralizing, 
like  Richardson,  or  for  emphasizing  a  forced  repentance,  like 
Defoe,  but  simply  because  it  interests  him,  and  his  only  con- 
cern is  "to  laugh  men  out  of  their  follies."  So  his  story, 
though  it  abounds  in  unpleasant  incidents,  generally  leaves 
the  reader  with  the  strong  impression  of  reality. 

Fielding's  later  novels  are  Jonathan  Wild,  the  story  of  a 
rogue,  which  suggests  Defoe's  narrative  ;  The  History  of  Tom 
Jones,  a  Foundling  (1749),  his  best  work;  z.u&  Amelia  (1751), 
the  story  of  a  good  wife  in  contrast  with  an  unworthy  hus- 
band. His  strength  in  all  these  works  is  in  the  vigorous  but 
coarse  figures,  like  those  of  Jan  Steen's  pictures,  which  fill 
most  of  his  pages  ;  his  weakness  is  in  lack  of  taste,  and  in 
barrenness  of  imagination  or  invention,  which  leads  him  to 
repeat  his  plots  and  incidents  with  slight  variations.  In  all 
his  work  sincerity  is  perhaps  the  most  marked  characteristic. 
Fielding  likes  virile  men,  just  as  they  are,  good  and  bad,  but 
detests  shams  of  every  sort.  His  satire  has  none  of  Swift's 
bitterness,  but  is  subtle  as  that  of  Chaucer,  and  good-natured 
as  that  of  Steele.  He  never  moralizes,  though  some  of  his 
powerfully  drawn  scenes  suggest  a  deeper  moral  lesson  than 
anything  in  Defoe  or  Richardson ;  and  he  never  judges  even 
the  worst  of  his  characters  without  remembering  his  own  frailty 
and  tempering  justice  with  mercy.  On  the  whole,  though  much 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  355 

of  his  work  is  perhaps  in  bad  taste  and  is  too  coarse  for  pleas- 
ant or  profitable  reading,  Fielding  must  be  regarded  as  an 
artist,  a  very  great  artist,  in  realistic  fiction  ;  and  the  advanced 
student  who  reads  him  will  probably  concur  in  the  judgment 
of  a  modern  critic  that,  by  giving  us  genuine  pictures  of  men 
and  women  of  his  own  age,  without  moralizing  over  their  vices 
and  virtues,  he  became  the  real  founder  of  the  modern  novel. 

SMOLLETT  AND  STERNE 

Tobias  Smollett  (1721—1771)  apparently  tried  to  carry  on 
Fielding's  work ;  but  he  lacked  Fielding's  genius,  as  well  as 
his  humor  and  inherent  kindness,  and  so  crowded  his  pages 
with  the  horrors  and  brutalities  which  are  sometimes  mistaken 
for  realism.  Smollett  was  a  physician,  of  eccentric  manners 
and  ferocious  instincts,  who  developed  his  unnatural  peculiari- 
ties by  going  as  a  surgeon  on  a  battleship,  where  he  seems  to 
have  picked  up  all  the  evils  of  the  navy  and  of  the  medical 
profession  to  use  later  in  his  novels. 

His  three  best  known  works  are  Roderick  Random  (1748), 
a  series  of  adventures  related  by  the  hero ;  Peregrine  Pickle 
Smollett's  (I75I)>  m  which  he  reflects  with  brutal  directness 
Novels  the  worst  of  his  experiences  at  sea  ;  and  Humphrey 

Clinker  (1771),  his  last  work,  recounting  the  mild  adventures 
of  a  Welsh  family  in  a  journey  through  England  and  Scot- 
land. This  last  alone  can  be  generally  read  without  arousing 
the  reader's  profound  disgust.  Without  any  particular  ability, 
he  models  his  novels  on  Don  Quixote,  and  the  result  is  simply 
a  series  of  coarse  adventures  which  are  characteristic  of  the 
picaresque  novel  of  his  age.  Were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  he 
unconsciously  imitates  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  His  Humour, 
he  would  hardly  be  named  among  our  writers  of  fiction ;  but 
in  seizing  upon  some  grotesque  habit  or  peculiarity  and  mak- 
ing a  character  out  of  it  —  such  as  Commodore  Trunnion  in 
Peregrine  Pickle,  Matthew  Bramble  in  Humphrey  Clinker, 
and  Bowling  in  Roderick  Random  —  he  laid  the  foundation 


ENGLISH   LITERATURE 

for  that  exaggeration  in  portraying  human  eccentricities  which 
finds  a  climax  in  Dickens's  caricatures. 

Lawrence  Sterne  (1713-1768)  has  been  compared  to  a 
"  little  bronze  satyr  of  antiquity  in  whose  hollow  body  exqui- 
site odors  were  stored."  That  is  true,  so  far  as  the  satyr  is 
concerned ;  for  a  more  weazened,  unlovely  personality  would 
be  hard  to  find.  The  only  question  in  the  comparison  is  in 
regard  to  the  character  of  the  odors,  and  that  is  a  matter  of 
taste.  In  his  work  he  is  the  reverse  of  Smollett,  the  latter 
being  given  over  to  coarse  vulgarities,  which  are  often  mis- 
taken for  realism  ;  the  former  to  whims  and  vagaries  and 
sentimental  tears,  which  frequently  only  disguise  a  sneer  at 
human  grief  and  pity. 

The  two  books  by  which  Sterne  is  remembered  are  Tris- 
tram Shandy  and  A  Sentimental  Journey  through  France  and 
Sterne's  Italy.  These  are  termed  novels  for  the  simple  reason 
Work  that  we  know  not  what  else  to  call  them.  The  former 

was  begun,  in  his  own  words,  "  with  no  real  idea  of  how  it  was 
to  turn  out ";  its  nine  volumes,  published  at  intervals  from  1 760 
to  1767,  proceeded  in  the  most  aimless  way,  recording  the 
experiences  of  the  eccentric  Shandy  family ;  and  the  book 
was  never  finished.  Its  strength  lies  chiefly  in  its  brilliant 
style,  the  most  remarkable  of  the  age,  and  in  its  odd  charac- 
ters, like  Uncle  Toby  and  Corporal  Trim,  which,  with  all  their 
eccentricities,  are  so  humanized  by  the  author's  genius  that 
they  belong  among  the  great  "creations"  of  our  literature. 
The  Sentimental  Journey  is  a  curious  combination  of  fiction, 
sketches  of  travel,  miscellaneous  essays  on  odd  subjects,  — 
all  marked  by  the  same  brilliancy  of  style,  and  all  stamped 
with  Sterne's  false  attitude  towards  everything  in  life.  Many 
of  its  best  passages  were  either  adapted  or  taken  bodily  from 
Burton,  Rabelais,  and  a  score  of  other  writers  ;  so  that,  in 
reading  Sterne,  one  is  never  quite  sure  how  much  is  his  own 
work,  though  the  mark  of  his  grotesque  genius  is  on  every 
page. 


EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY  LITERATURE  357 

The  First  Novelists  and  their  Work.  With  the  publication 
of  Goldsmith's  Vicar  of  Wakefield  in  1766  the  first  series  of 
English  novels  came  to  a  suitable  close.  Of  this  work,  with 
its  abundance  of  homely  sentiment  clustering  about  the  family 
life  as  the  most  sacred  of  Anglo-Saxon  institutions,  we  have 
already  spoken.1  If  we  except  Robinson  Crusoe,  as  an  adven- 
ture story,  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield  is  the  only  novel  of  the 
period  which  can  be  freely  recommended  to  all  readers,  as 
giving  an  excellent  idea  of  the  new  literary  type,  which  was 
perhaps  more  remarkable  for  its  promise  than  for  its  achieve- 
ment. In  the  short  space  of  twenty-five  years  there  suddenly 
appeared  and  flourished  a  new  form  of  literature,  which  influ- 
enced all  Europe  for  nearly  a  century,  and  which  still  furnishes 
the  largest  part  of  our  literary  enjoyment.  Each  successive 
novelist  brought  some  new  element  to  the  work,  as  when  Field- 
ing supplied  animal  vigor  and  humor  to  Richardson's  analysis 
of  a  human  heart,  and  Sterne  added  brilliancy,  and  Goldsmith 
emphasized  purity  and  the  honest  domestic  sentiments  which 
are  still  the  greatest  ruling  force  among  men.  So  these  early 
workers  were  like  men  engaged  in  carving  a  perfect  cameo 
from  the  reverse  side.  One  works  the  profile,  another  the  eyes, 
a  third  the  mouth  and  the  fine  lines  of  character ;  and  not  till 
the  work  is  finished,  and  the  cameo  turned,  do  we  see  the 
complete  human  face  and  read  its  meaning.  Such,  in  a  para- 
ble, is  the  story  of  the  English  novel. 

Summary  of  the  Eighteenth  Century.  The  period  we  are  studying  is  in- 
cluded between  the  English  Revolution  of  1688  and  the  beginning  of  the 
French  Revolution  of  1789.  Historically,  the  period  begins  in  a  remarkable 
way  by  the  adoption  of  the  Bill  of  Rights  in  1689.  This  famous  bill  was  the 
third  and  final  step  in  the  establishment  of  constitutional  government,  the  first 
step  being  the  Great  Charter  (1215),  and  the  second  the  Petition  of  Right 
(1628).  The  modern  form  of  cabinet  government  was  established  in  the  reign 
of  George  I  (1714-1727).  The  foreign  prestige  of  England  was  strengthened 
by  the  victories  of  Marlborough  on  the  Continent,  in  the  War  of  the  Spanish 
Succession ;  and  the  bounds  of  empire  were  enormously  increased  by  Clive 
in  India,  by  Cook  in  Australia  and  the  islands  of  the  Pacific,  and  by  English 

1  See  p.  315. 


358  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

victories  over  the  French  in  Canada  and  the  Mississippi  Valley,  during  the 
Seven  Years',  or  French  and  Indian,  Wars.  Politically,  the  country  was 
divided  into  Whigs  and  Tories :  the  former  seeking  greater  liberty  for  the 
people ;  the  latter  upholding  the  king  against  popular  government.  The  con- 
tinued strife  between  these  two  political  parties  had  a  direct  (and  generally  a 
harmful)  influence  on  literature,  as  many  of  the  great  writers  were  used  by 
the  Whig  or  Tory  party  to  advance  its  own  interests  and  to  satirize  its  ene- 
mies. Notwithstanding  this  perpetual  strife  of  parties,  the  age  is  remarkable 
for  the  rapid  social  development,  which  soon  expressed  itself  in  literature. 
Clubs  and  coffeehouses  multiplied,  and  the  social  life  of  these  clubs  resulted 
in  better  manners,  in  a  general  feeling  of  toleration,  and  especially  in  a  kind 
of  superficial  elegance  which  shows  itself  in  most  of  the  prose  and  poetry  of 
the  period.  On  the  other  hand,  the  moral  standard  of  the  nation  was  very 
low ;  bands  of  rowdies  infested  the  city  streets  after  nightfall ;  bribery  and 
corruption  were  the  rule  in  politics;  and  drunkenness  was  frightfully  preva- 
lent among  all  classes.  Swift's  degraded  race  of  Yahoos  is  a  reflection  of  the 
degradation  to  be  seen  in  multitudes  of  London  saloons.  This  low  standard 
of  morals  emphasizes  the  importance  of  the  great  Methodist  revival  under 
Whitefield  and  Wesley,  which  began  in  the  second  quarter  of  the  eighteenth 
century. 

The  literature  of  the  century  is  remarkably  complex,  but  we  may  classify  it 
all  under  three  general  heads, — the  Reign  of  so-called  Classicism,  the  Revival 
of  Romantic  Poetry,  and  the  Beginning  of  the  Modern  Novel.  The  first  half 
of  the  century,  especially,  is  an  age  of  prose,  owing  largely  to  the  fact  that  the 
practical  and  social  interests  of  the  age  demanded  expression.  Modern  news- 
papers, like  the  Chronicle,  Post,  and  Times,  and  literary  magazines,  like  the 
Taller  and  Spectator,  which  began  in  this  age,  greatly  influenced  the  develop- 
ment of  a  serviceable  prose  style.  The  poetry  of  the  first  half  of  the  century, 
as  typified  in  Pope,  was  polished,  unimaginative,  formal ;  and  the  closed  coup- 
let was  in  general  use,  supplanting  all  other  forms  of  verse.  Both  prose  and 
poetry  were  too  frequently  satiric,  and  satire  does  -not  tend  to  produce  a  high 
type  of  literature.  These  tendencies  in  poetry  were  modified,  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  century,  by  the  revival  of  romantic  poetry. 

In  our  study  we  have  noted:  (i)  the  Augustan  or  Classic  Age  ;  the  mean- 
ing of  Classicism ;  the  life  and  work  of  Alexander  Pope,  the  greatest  poet  of 
the  age ;  of  Jonathan  Swift,  the  satirist ;  of  Joseph  Addison,  the  essayist ;  of 
Richard  Steele,  who  was  the  original  genius  of  the  Toiler  and  the  Spectator  ; 
of  Samuel  Johnson,  who  for  nearly  half  a  century  was  the  dictator  of  English 
letters;  of  James  Boswell,  who  gave  us  the  immortal  Life  of  Johnson ;  of 
Edmund  Burke,  the  greatest  of  English  orators ;  and  of  Edward  Gibbon,  the 
historian,  famous  for  his  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 

(2)  The  Revival  of  Romantic  Poetry;  the  meaning  of  Romanticism;  the 
life  and  work  of  Thomas  Gray ;  of  Oliver  Goldsmith,  famous  as  poet,  drama- 
tist, and  novelist;  of  William  Cowper;  of  Robert  Burns,  the  greatest  of 
Scottish  poets;  of  William  Blake,  the  mystic;  and  the  minor  poets  of  the 
early  romantic  movement,  —  James  Thomson,  William  Collins,  George  Crabbe, 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  359 

James  Macpherson,  author  of  the  Ossian  poems,  Thomas  Chatterton,  the  boy 
who  originated  the  Rowley  Papers,  and  Thomas  Percy,  whose  work  for  litera- 
ture was  to  collect  the  old  ballads,  which  he  called  the  Reliques  of  Ancient 
English  Poetry,  and  to  translate  the  stories  of  Norse  mythology  in  his  North- 
ern Antiquities. 

(3)  The  First  English  Novelists ;  the  meaning  and  history  of  the  modern 
novel;  the  life  and  work  of  Daniel  Defoe,  author  of  Robinson  Crusoe,  who  is 
hardly  to  be  called  a  novelist,  but  whom  we  placed  among  the  pioneers ;  and 
the  novels  of  Richardson,  Fielding,  Smollett,  Sterne,  and  Goldsmith. 

Selections  for  Reading.  Manly's  English  Poetry  and  Manly's  English 
Prose  (Ginn  and  Company)  are  two  excellent  volumes  containing  selections 
from  all  authors  studied.  Ward's  English  Poets  (4  vols.),  Craik's  English 
Prose  Selections  (5  vols.),  and  Garnett's  English  Prose  from  Elizabeth  to 
Victoria  are  useful  for  supplementary  reading.  All  important  works  should  be 
read  entire,  in  one  of  the  following  inexpensive  editions,  published  for  school 
use.  (For  titles  and  publishers,  see  General  Bibliography  at  end  of  this  book.) 

Pope.  Rape  of  the  Lock  and  Other  Poems,  edited  by  Parrott,  in  Standard 
English  Classics.  Various  other  school  editions  of  the  Essay  on  Man,  and 
Rape  of  the  Lock,  in  Riverside  Literature  Series,  Pocket  Classics,  etc.; 
Pope's  Iliad,  I,  VI,  XXII,  XXIV,  in  Standard  English  Classics,  etc.  Selec- 
tions from  Pope,  edited  by  Reed,  in  Holt's  English  Readings. 

Swift.  Gulliver's  Travels,  school  edition  by  Ginn  and  Company;  also  in 
Temple  Classics,  etc.  Selections  from  Swift,  edited  by  Winchester,  in  Athe- 
naeum Press  (announced) ;  the  same,  edited  by  Craik,  in  Clarendon  Press  ;  the 
same,  edited  by  Prescott,  in  Holt's  English  Readings.  Battle  of  the  Books,  in 
King's  Classics,  Bohn's  Library,  etc. 

Addison  and  Steele.  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  Papers,  in  Standard  English 
Classics,  Riverside  Literature,  etc. ;  Selections  from  Addison,  edited  by  Wen- 
dell and  Greenough,  and  Selections  from  Steele,  edited  by  Carpenter,  both  in 
Athenaeum  Press ;  various  other  selections,  in  Golden  Treasury  Series,  Came- 
lot  Series,  Holt's  English  Readings,  etc. 

Johnson.  Lives  of  the  Poets,  in  Cassell's  National  Library ;  Selected  Es- 
says, edited  by  G.  B.  Hill  (Dent) ;  Selections,  in  Little  Masterpieces  Series ; 
Rasselas,  in  Holt's  English  Readings,  and  in  Morley's  Universal  Library. 

Boswell.  Life  of  Johnson  (2  vols.),  in  Everyman's  Library  ;  the  same  (3  vols.), 
in  Library  of  English  Classics ;  also  in  Temple  Classics,  and  Bohn's  Library. 

Burke.  American  Taxation,  Conciliation  with  America,  Letter  to  a  Noble 
Lord,  in  Standard  English  Classics ;  various  speeches,  in  Pocket  Classics, 
Riverside  Literature  Series,  etc.;  Selections,  edited  by  B.  Perry  (Holt); 
Speeches  on  America  (Heath,  etc.). 

Gibbon.  The  Student's  Gibbon,  abridged  (Murray) ;  Memoirs,  edited  by 
Emerson,  in  Athenaeum  Press. 

Gray.  Selections,  edited  by  W.  L.  Phelps,  in  Athenaeum  Press ;  Selections 
from  Gray  and  Cowper,  in  Canterbury  Poets,  Riverside  Literature,  etc. ; 
Gray's  Elegy,  in  Selections  from  Five  English  Poets  (Ginn  and  Company). 


360  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Goldsmith.  Deserted  Village,  in  Standard  English  Classics,  etc. ;  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,  in  Standard  English  Classics,  Everyman's  Library,  King's  Classics, 
etc. ;  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  in  Pocket  Classics,  Belles  Lettres  Series,  etc. 

Cowper.  Selections,  edited  by  Murray,  in  Athenaeum  Press ;  Selections,  in 
Cassell's  National  Library,  Canterbury  Poets,  etc. ;  The  Task,  in  Temple 
Classics. 

Burns.  Representative  Poems,  with  Carlyle's  Essay  on  Burns,  edited  by 
C.  L.  Hanson,  in  Standard  English  Classics;  Selections,  in  Pocket  Classics, 
Riverside  Literature,  etc. 

Blake.  Poems,  edited  by  W.  B.  Yeats,  in  Muses'  Library ;  Selections,  in 
Canterbury  Poets,  etc. 

Minor  Poets.  Thomson,  Collins,  Crabbe,  etc.  Selections,  in  Manly's  Eng- 
lish Poetry.  Thomson's  The  Seasons,  and  Castle  of  Indolence,  in  Modern 
Classics ;  the  same  poems  in  Clarendon  Press,  and  in  Temple  Classics ;  Selec- 
tions from  Thomson,  in  Cassell's  National  Library.  Chatterton's  poems,  in 
Canterbury  Poets.  Macpherson's  Ossian,  in  Canterbury  Poets.  Percy's  Rel- 
iques,  in  Everyman's  Library,  Chandos  Classics,  Bohn's  Library,  etc.  More 
recent  and  reliable  collections  of  popular  ballads,  for  school  use,  are  Gum- 
mere's  Old  English  Ballads,  in  Athenaeum  Press ;  The  Ballad  Book,  edited  by 
Allingham,  in  Goldern  Treasury  Series ;  Gayley  and  Flaherty's  Poetry  of  the 
People  (Ginn  and  Company),  etc.  See  Bibliography  on  p.  64. 

Defoe.  Robinson  Crusoe,  school  edition,  by  Ginn  and  Company;  the  same 
in  Pocket  Classics,  etc. ;  Journal  of  the  Plague  Year,  edited  by  Hurlbut  (Ginn 
and  Company) ;  the  same,  in  Everyman's  Library,  etc. ;  Essay  on  Projects, 
in  Cassell's  National  Library. 

The  Novelists.  Manly's  English  Prose ;  Craik's  English  Prose  Selections, 
vol.  4;  Goldsmith's  Vicar  of  Wakefield  (see  above);  Selected  Essays  of  Field- 
ing, edited  by  Gerould,  in  Athenaeum  Press. 

Bibliography.1  History.  Text-book,  Montgomery,  pp.  280-322;  Cheyney, 
pp.  516-574.  General  Works.  Greene,  ch.  9,  sec.  7,  to  ch.  10,  sec.  4;  Traill, 
Gardiner,  Macaulay,  etc.  Special  Works.  Lecky's  History  of  England  in  the 
Eighteenth  Century,  vols.  1-3 ;  Morris's  The  Age  of  Queen  Anne  and  the 
Early  Hanoverians  (Epochs  of  Modern  History) ;  Seeley's  The  Expansion  of 
England ;  Macaulay's  Clive,  and  Chatham ;  Thackeray's  The  Four  Georges, 
and  the  English  Humorists  ;  Ashton's  Social  Life  in  the  Reign  of  Queen 
Anne  ;  Susan  Hale's  Men  and  Manners  of  the  Eighteenth  Century;  Sydney's 
England  and  the  English  in  the  Eighteenth  Century. 

Literature.  General  Works.  The  Cambridge  Literature,  Taine,  Saintsbury, 
etc.  Special  Works.  Perry's  English  Literature  in  the  Eighteenth  Century; 
L.  Stephen's  English  Literature  in  the  Eighteenth  Century ;  Seccombe's  The 
Age  of  Johnson ;  Dennis's  The  Age  of  Pope ;  Gosse's  History  of  English 
Literature  in  the  Eighteenth  Century;  Whitwell's  Some  Eighteenth  Century 
Men  of  Letters  (Cowper,  Sterne,  Fielding,  Goldsmith,  Gray,  Johnson,  and 

1  For  titles  and  publishers  of  general  reference  works,  and  of  inexpensive  texts,  see 
General  Bibliography  at  end  of  this  book. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  361 

Boswell);  Johnson's  Eighteenth  Century  Letters  and  Letter  Writers;  Williams's 
English  Letters  and  Letter  Writers  of  the  Eighteenth  Century;  Minto's 
Manual  of  English  Prose  Writers;  Clark's  Study  of  English  Prose  Writers; 
Bourne's  English  Newspapers ;  J.  B.  Williams's  A  History  of  English  Jour- 
nalism ;  L.  Stephen's  History  of  English  Thought  in  the  Eighteenth  Century. 

The  Romantic  Revival.  W.  L.  Phelps's  The  Beginnings  of  the  English  Ro- 
mantic Movement ;  Beers's  English  Romanticism  in  the  Eighteenth  Century. 

The  Novel.  Raleigh's  The  English  Novel ;  Simonds's  An  Introduction  to 
the  Study  of  English  Fiction;  Cross's  The  Development  of  the  English 
Novel ;  Jusserand's  The  English  Novel  in  the  Time  of  Shakespeare ;  Stod- 
dard's  The  Evolution  of  the  English  Novel;  Warren's  The  History  of  the 
English  Novel  previous  to  the  Seventeenth  Century ;  Masson's  British  Novel- 
ists and  their  Styles;  S.  Lanier's  The  English  Novel;  Hamilton's  the  Mate- 
rials and  Methods  of  Fiction ;  Perry's  A  Study  of  Prose  Fiction. 

Pope.  Texts :  Works,  in  Globe  Edition,  edited  by  A.  W.  Ward ;  in  Cam- 
bridge Poets,  edited  by  H.  W.  Boynton;  Satires  and  Epistles,  in  Clarendon 
Press;  Letters,  in  English  Letters  and  Letter  Writers  of  the  Eighteenth 
Century,  edited  by  H.  Williams  (Bell).  Life :  by  Courthope ;  by  L.  Stephen 
(English  Men  of  Letters  Series) ;  by  Ward,  in  Globe  Edition;  by  Johnson,  in 
Lives  of  the  Poets  (Cassell's  National  Library,  etc.).  Criticism:  Essays,  by 
L.  Stephen,  in  Hours  in  a  Library ;  by  Lowell,  in  My  Study  Windows ;  by 
De  Quincey,  in  Biographical  Essays,  and  in  Essays  on  the  Poets ;  by  Thack- 
eray, in  English  Humorists ;  by  Sainte-Beuve,  in  English  Portraits.  Warton's 
Genius  and  Writings  of  Pope  (interesting  chiefly  from  the  historical  view  point, 
as  the  first  definite  and  extended  attack  on  Pope's  writings). 

Swift.  Texts;  Works,  19  vols.,  ed.  by  Walter  Scott  (Edinburgh,  1814- 
1824) ;  best  edition  of  prose  works  is  edited  by  T.  Scott,  with  introduction  by 
Lecky,  12  vols.  (Bohn's  Library) ;  Selections,  edited  by  Winchester  (Ginn  and 
Company);  also  in  Camelot  Series,  Carisbrooke  Library,  etc.,  Journal  to 
Stella,  (Button,  also  Putnam) ;  Letters,  in  Eighteenth  Century  Letters  and 
Letter  Writers,  ed.  by  T.  B.  Johnson.  Life  :  by  L.  Stephen  (English  Men  of 
Letters) ;  by  Collins ;  by  Craik  ;  by  J.  Forster ;  by  Macaulay ;  by  Walter 
Scott ;  by  Johnson,  in  Lives  of  the  Poets.  Criticism  :  Essays,  by  Thackeray, 
in  English  Humorists ;  by  A.  Dobson,  in  Eighteenth  Century  Vignettes ;  by 
Masson,  in  the  Three  Devils  and  Other  Essays. 

Addison.  Texts:  Works,  in  Bohn's  British  Classics;  Selections,  in  Athe- 
naeum Press,  etc.  Life :  by  Lucy  Aiken ;  by  Courthope  (English  Men  of 
Letters) ;  by  Johnson,  in  Lives  of  the  Poets.  Criticism:  Essays,  by  Macaulay; 
by  Thackeray. 

Steele.  Texts  :  Selections,  edited  by  Carpenter  in  Athenaeum  Press  (Ginn 
and  Company) ;  various  other  Selections  published  by  Putnam,  Bangs,  in 
Camelot  Series,  etc. ;  Plays,  edited  by  Aitken,  in  Mermaid  Series.  Life :  by 
Aitken;  by  A.  Dobson  (English  Worthies  Series).  Criticism:  Essays  by 
Thackeray ;  by  Dobson,  in  Eighteenth  Century  Vignettes. 

Johnson.  Texts:  Works,  edited  by  Walesby,  n  vols.  (Oxford,  1825);  the 
same,  edited  by  G.  B.  Hill,  in  Clarendon  Press.  Essays,  edited  by  G.  B.  Hill 


362  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

(Dent) ;  the  same,  in  Camelot  series ;  Rasselas,  various  school  editions,  by 
Ginn  and  Company,  Holt,  etc. ;  Selections  from  Lives  of  the  Poets,  with 
Macaulay's  Life  of  Johnson,  edited  by  Matthew  Arnold  (Macmillan).  Life  : 
BoswelFs  Life  of  Johnson,  in  Everyman's  Library,  Temple  Classics,  Library 
of  English  Classics,  etc. ;  by  L.  Stephen  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  by  Grant. 
Criticism :  G.  B.  Hill's  Dr.  Johnson,  his  Friends  and  Critics ;  Essays,  by 
L.  Stephen,  in  Hours  in  a  Library ;  by  Macaulay,  Birrell,  etc. 

Boswell.  Texts :  Life  of  Johnson,  edited  by  G.  B.  Hill  (London,  1874)  ; 
various  other  editions  (see  above).  Life:  by  Fitzgerald  (London,  1891); 
Roger's  Boswelliana  (London,  1874).  Whitfield's  Some  Eighteenth  Century 
Men  of  Letters. 

Burke.  Texts:  Works,  I2vols.  (Boston,  1871);  reprinted,  6 vols.,  in  Bohn's 
Library;  Selected  Works,  edited  by  Payne,  in  Clarendon  Press;  On  the  Sub- 
lime and  Beautiful,  in  Temple  Classics.  For  various  speeches,  see  Selections 
for  Reading,  above.  Life:  by  Prior;  by  Morley  (English  Men  of  Letters). 
Criticism :  Essay,  by  Birrell,  in  Obiter  Dicta.  See  also  Dowden's  French 
Revolution  and  English  Literature,  and  Woodrow  Wilson's  Mere  Literature. 

Gibbon.  Texts  :  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  edited  by  Bury, 
7  vols.  (London,  1896-1900)  ;  various  other  editions;  The  Student's  Gibbon, 
abridged  (Murray)  ;  Memoirs,  edited  by  Emerson,  in  Athenaeum  Press  (Ginn 
and  Company).  Life  :  by  Morison  (English  Men  of  Letters).  Criticism  :  Essays, 
by  Birrell,  in  Collected  Essays  and  Res  Judicatae ;  by  Stephen,  in  Studies  of  a 
Biographer ;  by  Robertson,  in  Pioneer  Humanists ;  by  Frederick  Harrison,  in 
Ruskin  and  Other  Literary  Estimates ;  by  Bagehot,  in  Literary  Studies ;  by 
Sainte-Beuve,  in  English  Portraits.  See  also  Anton's  Masters  in  History. 

Sheridan.  Texts:  Speeches,  5  vols.  (London,  1816);  Plays,  edited  by 
W.  F.  Rae  (London,  1902) ;  the  same,  edited  by  R.  Dircks,  in  Camelot  Series ; 
Major  Dramas,  in  Athenaeum  Press  :  Plays  also  in  Morley's  Universal  Library, 
Macmillan 's  English  Classics,  etc.  Life:  by  Rae;  by  M.  Oliphant  (English 
Men  of  Letters) ;  by  L.  Sanders  (Great  Writers). 

Gray.  Texts  :  WTorks,  edited  by  Gosse  (Macmillan) ;  Poems,  in  Routledge's 
Pocket  Library,  Chandos  Classics,  etc. ;  Selections,  in  Athenaeum  Press,  etc. ; 
Letters,  edited  by  D.C.Tovey(Bohn).  Life:  by  Gosse  (English  Men  of  Letters). 
Criticism :  Essays,  by  Lowell,  in  Latest  Literary  Essays ;  by  M.  Arnold,  in 
Essays  in  Criticism ;  by  L.  Stephen,  in  Hours  in  a  Library ;  by  A.  Dobson,  in 
Eighteenth  Century  Vignettes. 

Goldsmith.  Texts:  edited  by  Masson,  Globe  edition;  Works,  edited  by 
Aiken  and  Tuckerman  (Crowell) ;  the  same,  edited  by  A.  Dobson  (Dent)  ; 
Morley's  Universal  Library;  Arber's  The  Goldsmith  Anthology  (Frowde).  See 
also  Selections  for  Reading,  above.  Life  :  by  Washington  Irving ;  by  A.  Dobson 
(Great  Writer's  Series);  by  Black  (English  Men  of  Letters);  by  J.  Forster; 
by  Prior.  Criticism :  Essays,  by  Macaulay ;  by  Thackeray ;  by  De  Quincey ; 
by  A.  Dobson,  in  Miscellanies. 

Cowper.  Texts :  Works,  Globe  and  Aldine  editions  ;  also  in  Chandos 
Classics ;  Selections,  in  Athenaeum  Press,  Canterbury  Poets,  etc.  The  Corre- 
spondence of  William  Cowper,  edited  by  T.  Wright,  4  vols.  (Dodd,  Mead  & 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  363 

Company).  Life:  by  Goldwin  Smith  (English  Men  of  Letters);  by  Wright; 
by  Southey.  Criticism :  Essays,  by  L.  Stephen ;  by  Bagehot ;  by  Sainte- 
Beuve ;  by  Birrell ;  by  Stopford  Brooke  j  by  A.  Dobson  (see  above).  See 
also  Woodberry's  Makers  of  Literature. 

Burns.  Texts:  Works,  Cambridge  Poets  Edition  (containing  Henley's 
Study  of  Burns),  Globe  and  Aldine  editions,  Clarendon  Press,  Canterbury 
Poets,  etc. ;  Selections,  in  Athenaeum  Press,  etc. ;  Letters,  in  Camelot  Series. 
Life  :  by  Cunningham;  by  Henley;  by  Setoun ;  by  Blackie  (Great  Writers)  ; 
by  Shairp  (English  Men  of  Letters).  Criticism :  Essays,  by  Carlyle ;  by  R.  L. 
Stevenson,  in  Familiar  Studies ;  by  Hazlitt,  in  Lectures  on  the  English  Poets ; 
by  Stopford  Brooke,  in  Theology  in  the  English  Poets ;  by  J.  Forster,  in 
Great  Teachers. 

Blake.  Texts:  Poems,  Aldine  edition;  also  in  Canterbury  Poets;  Com- 
plete Works,  edited  by  Ellis  and  Yeats  (London,  1893);  Selections,  edited 
by  W.  B.  Yeats,  in  the  Muses'  Library  (Button) ;  Letters,  with  Life  by 
F.  Tatham,  edited  by  A.  G.  B.  Russell  (Scribner's,  1896).  Life:  by  Gilchrist; 
by  Story;  by  Symons.  Criticism:  Swinburne's  William  Blake,  a  Critical 
Study;  Ellis's  The  Real  Blake  (McClure,  1907);  Elizabeth  Cary's  The  Art 
of  William  Blake  (Moffat,  Yard  &  Company,  1907).  Essay,  by  A.  C.  Benson, 
in  Essays. 

Thomson.  Texts  :  Works,  Aldine  edition  ;  The  Seasons,  and  Castle  of  Indo- 
lence, in  Clarendon  Press,  etc.  Life:  by  Bayne ;  by  G.  B.  Macaulay  (English 
Men  of  Letters).  Essay,  by  Hazlitt,  in  Lectures  on  the  English  Poets. 

Collins.  Works,  edited  by  Bronson,  in  Athenaeum  Press ;  also  in  Aldine 
edition.  Life  :  by  Johnson,  in  Lives  of  the  Poets.  Essay,  by  Swinburne,  in 
Miscellanies.  See  also  Beers's  English  Romanticism  in  the  Eighteenth  Century. 

Crabbe.  Works,  with  memoir  by  his  son,  G.  Crabbe,  8  vols.  (London, 
1834-1835);  Poems,  edited  by  A.  W.  Ward,  3  vols.,  in  Cambridge  English 
Classics  (Cambridge,  1905) ;  Selections,  in  Temple  Classics,  Canterbury  Poets, 
etc.  Life :  by  Kebbel  (Great  Writers)  ;  by  Ainger  (English  Men  of  Letters). 
Essays,  by  L.  Stephen,  in  Hours  in  a  Library;  by  Woodberry,  in  Makers  of 
Literature ;  by  Saintsbury,  in  Essays  in  English  Literature ;  by  Courthope, 
in  Ward's  English  Poets ;  by  Edward  Fitzgerald,  in  Miscellanies ;  by  Hazlitt, 
in  Spirit  of  the  Age. 

Macpherson.  Texts :  Ossian,  in  Canterbury  Poets ;  Poems,  translated  by 
Macpherson,  edited  by  Todd  (London,  1888).  Life  and  Letters,  edited  by 
Saunders  (London,  1894).  Criticism:  J.  S.  Smart's  James  Macpherson  (Nutt, 
1905).  See  also  Beers's  English  Romanticism.  For  relation  of  Macpherson's 
work  "to  the  original  Ossian,  see  Dean  of  Lismore's  Book,  edited  by  Mac- 
Lauchlan  (Edinburgh,  1862) ;  also  Poems  of  Ossian,  translated  by  Clerk 
(Edinburgh,  1870). 

Chatterton.  Works,  edited  by  Skeat  (London,  1875) ;  Poems,  in  Canter- 
bury Poets.  Life  :  by  Russell ;  by  Wilson  ;  Masson's  Chatterton,  a  Biography. 
Criticism :  C.  E.  Russell's  Thomas  Chatterton  (Moffatt,  Yard  &  Company) ; 
Essays,  by  Watts-Dunton,  in  Ward's  English  Poets;  by  Masson,  in  Essays 
Biographical  and  Critical.  See  also  Beers's  English  Romanticism. 


364  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Percy.  Reliques,  edited  by  Wheatley  (London,  1891) ;  the  same,  in  Every- 
man's Library,  Chandos  Classics,  etc.  Essay,  by  J.  W.  Hales,  Revival  of 
Ballad  Poetry,  in  Folia  Literaria.  See  also  Beers's  English  Romanticism,  etc. 
(Special  works,  above.) 

Defoe.  Texts  :  Romances  and  Narratives,  edited  by  Aitken  (Dent) ;  Poems 
and  Pamphlets,  in  Arber's  English  Garner,  vol.  8  ;  school  editions  of  Robinson 
Crusoe,  and  Journal  of  the  Plague  Year  (Ginn  and  Company,  etc.) ;  Captain 
Singleton,  and  Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier,  in  Everyman's  Library ;  Early  Writings, 
in  Carisbrooke  Library  (Routledge).  Life :  by  W.  Lee ;  by  Minto  (English 
Men  of  Letters) ;  by  Wright ;  also  in  Westminster  Biographies  (Small,  May- 
nard).  Essay,  by  L.  Stephen,  in  Hours  in  a  Library. 

Richardson.  Works:  edited  by  L.  Stephen  (London,  1883);  edited  by 
Philips,  with  life  (New  York,  1901) ;  Correspondence,  edited  by  A.  Barbauld, 
6  vols.  (London,  1804).  Life:  by  Thomson  ;  by  A.  Dobson.  Essays,  by  L. 
Stephen,  in  Hours  in  a  Library;  by  A.  Dobson,  in  Eighteenth  Century 
Vignettes. 

Fielding.  Works:  Temple  Edition,  edited  by  Saintsbury  (Dent) ;  Selected 
Essays,  in  Athenaeum  Press ;  Journal  of  a  Voyage  to  Lisbon,  in  Cassell's 
National  Library.  Life :  by  Dobson  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  Lawrence's 
Life  and  Times  of  Fielding.  Essays,  by  Lowell ;  by  Thackeray ;  by  L.  Stephen ; 
by  A.  Dobson  (see  above) ;  by  G.  B.  Smith,  in  Poets  and  Novelists. 

Smollett.  Works,  edited  by  Saintsbury  (London,  1895) ;  Works,  edited  by 
Henley  (Scribner).  Life  :  by  Hannah  (Great  Writers) ;  by  Smeaton ;  by  Cham- 
bers. Essays,  by  Thackeray ;  by  Henley ;  by  Dobson,  in  Eighteenth  Century 
Vignettes. 

Sterne.  Works :  edited  by  Saintsbury  (Dent) ;  Tristram  Shandy,  and  A 
Sentimental  Journey,  in  Temple  Classics,  Morley's  Universal  Library,  etc. 
Life :  by  Fitzgerald ;  by  Traill  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  Life  and  Times,  by 
W.  L.  Cross  (Macmillan).  Essays,  by  Thackeray;  by  Bagehot,  in  Literary 
Studies. 

Horace  Walpole.  Texts:  Castle  of  Otranto,  in  King's  Classics,  Cassell's 
National  Library,  etc.  Letters,  edited  by  C.  D.  Yonge.  Morley's  Walpole,  in 
Twelve  English  Statesmen  (Macmillan).  Essay,  by  L.  Stephen,  in  Hours  in  a 
Library.  See  also  Beers's  English  Romanticism. 

Frances  Btirney  (Madame  d'Arblay).  Texts  :  Evelina,  in  Temple  Classics, 
2  vols.  (Macmillan).  Diary  and  Letters,  edited  by  S.  C.  Woolsey.  Seeley's 
Fanny  Burney  and  her  Friends.  Essay,  by  Macaulay. 

Suggestive  Questions,  i.  Describe  briefly  the  social  development  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  What  effect  did  this  have  on  literature  ?  What  accounts 
for  the  prevalence  of  prose  ?  What  influence  did  the  first  newspapers  exert 
on  life  and  literature  ?  How  do  the  readers  of  this  age  compare  with  those  of 
the  Age  of  Elizabeth  ? 

2.  How  do  you  explain  the  fact  that  satire  was  largely  used  in  both  prose 
and  poetry  ?  Name  the  principal  satires  of  the  age.  What  is  the  chief  object 
of  satire  ?  of  literature  ?  How  do  the  two  objects  conflict  ? 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE  365 

3.  What  is  the  meaning  of  the  term  "  classicism,"  as  applied  to  the  litera- 
ture of  this  age  ?    Did  the  classicism  of  Johnson,  for  instance,  have  any  relation 
to  classic  literature  in  its  true  sense  ?    Why  is  this  period  called  the  Augustan 
Age  ?  Why  was  Shakespeare  not  regarded  by  this  age  as  a  classical  writer? 

4.  Pope.    In  what  respect  is  Pope  a  unique  writer  ?    Tell  briefly  the  story  of 
his  life.    What  are  his  principal  works  ?    How  does  he  reflect  the  critical  spirit 
of  his  age  ?    What  are  the  chief  characteristics  of  his  poetry  ?    What  do  you 
find  to  copy  in  his  style  ?    What  is  lacking  in  his  poetry  ?    Compare  his  sub- 
jects with  those  of  Burns  or  Tennyson  or  Milton,  for  instance.    How  would 
Chaucer  or  Burns  tell  the  story  of  the  Rape  of  the  Lock  ?    What  similarity  do 
you  find  between  Pope's  poetry  and  Addison's  prose  ? 

5.  Swift.    What  is  the  general  character  of  Swift's  work  ?    Name  his  chief 
satires.    What  is  there  to  copy  in  his  style  ?    Does  he  ever  strive  for  ornament 
or  effect  in  writing  ?    Compare  Swift's  Gulliver's  Travels  with  Defoe's  Robin- 
son Crusoe,  in  style,  purpose  of  writing,  and  interest.    What  resemblances  do 
you  find  in  these  two  contemporary  writers  ?    Can  you  explain  the  continued 
popularity  of  Gulliver* s  Travels  ? 

6.  Addison  and  Steele.    What  great  work  did  Addison  and  Steele  do  for 
literature  ?    Make  a  brief  comparison  between  these  two  men,  having  in  mind 
their  purpose,  humor,  knowledge  of  life,  and  human  sympathy,  as  shown,  for 
instance,  in  No.  112  and  No.  2  of  the  Spectator  Essays.    Compare  their  humor 
with  that  of  Swift.     How  is  their  work  a  preparation  for  the  novel  ? 

7.  Johnson.    For  what  is  Dr.  Johnson  famous  in  literature  ?    Can  you  ex- 
plain his  great  influence  ?   Compare  his  style  with  that  of  Swift  or  Defoe.   What 
are  the  remarkable  elements  in  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson  ?  Write  a  description 
of  an  imaginary  meeting  of  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  and  Boswell  in  a  coffeehouse. 

8.  Burke.    For  what  is  Burke  remarkable  ?    What  great  objects  influenced 
him  in  the  three  periods  of  his  life?    Why  has  he  been  called  a  romantic  poet 
who  speaks  in  prose  ?    Compare  his  use  of  imagery  with  that  of  other  writers 
of  the  period.    What  is  there  to  copy  and  what  is  there  to  avoid  in  his  style  ? 
Can  you  trace  the  influence  of  Burke's  American  speeches  on  later  English 
politics  ?   What  similarities  do  you  find  between  Burke  and  Milton,  as  revealed 
in  their  prose  works  ? 

9.  Gibbon.    For  what  is  Gibbon  "  worthy  to  be  remembered  "  ?    Why  does 
he  mark  an  epoch  in  historical  writing  ?    What  is  meant  by  the  scientific 
method  of  writing  history  ?    Compare  Gibbon's  style  with  that  of  Johnson. 
Contrast  it  with  that  of  Swift,  and  also  with  that  of  some  modern  historian, 
Parkman,  for  example. 

10.  What  is  meant  by  the  term  "  romanticism  ?  "    What  are  its  chief  charac- 
teristics ?    How  does  it  differ  from  classicism  ?    Illustrate  the  meaning  from 
the  work  of  Gray,  Cowper,  or  Burns.    Can  you  explain  the  prevalence  of 
melancholy  in  romanticism  ? 

n.  Gray.  What  are  the  chief  works  of  Gray?  Can  you  explain  the  con- 
tinued popularity  of  his  "  Elegy  "  ?  What  romantrc  elements  are  found  in  his 
poetry  ?  What  resemblances  and  what  differences  do  you  find  in  the  works  of 
Gray  and  of  Goldsmith  ? 


366  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

12.  Goldsmith.    Tell  the   story  of   Goldsmith's  life.    What  are  his  chief 
works  ?    Show  from  The  Deserted  Village  the  romantic  and  the  so-called  clas- 
sic elements  in  his  work.    What  great  work  did  he  do  for  the  early  novel,  in 
The  Vicar  of  Wakefield?   Can  you  explain  the  popularity  of  She  Stoops  to  Con- 
quer?  Name  some  of  Goldsmith's  characters  who  have  found  a  permanent 
place  in  our  literature.    What  personal  reminiscences  have  you  noted  in  The 
Traveller,  The  Deserted  Village,  and  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  ? 

13.  Cowper.   Describe  Cowper's  The  Task.    How  does  it  show  the  romantic 
spirit  ?    Give  passages  from  "  John  Gilpin  "  to  illustrate  Cowper's  humor. 

14.  Burns.    Tell  the  story  of  Burns's  life.    Some  one  has  said,  "The  meas- 
ure of  a  man's  sin  is  the  difference  between  what  he  is  and  what  he  might  be." 
Comment  upon  this,  with  reference  to  Burns.    What  is  the  general  character 
of  his  poetry?    Why  is  he  called  the  poet  of  common  men?    What  subjects 
does  he  choose  for  his  poetry  ?    Compare  him,  in  this  respect,  with  Pope. 
What  elements  in  the  poet's  character  are  revealed  in  such  poems  as  "  To  a 
Mouse "  and  "  To  a  Mountain   Daisy "  ?    How  do   Burns  and  Gray  regard 
nature  ?    What  poems  show  his  sympathy  with  the  French  Revolution,  and 
with  democracy  ?    Read  "  The  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,"  and  explain  its  en- 
during interest.    Can  you  explain  the  secret  of  Burns's  great  popularity  ? 

15.  Blake.    What  are  the  characteristics  of  Blake's  poetry?    Can  you  ex- 
plain why  Blake,  though  the  greatest  poetic  genius  of  the  age,  is  so  little 
appreciated  ? 

16.  Percy.    In  what  respect  did  Percy's  Reliques  influence   the  romantic 
movement  ?    What  are  the  defects  in  his  collection  of  ballads  ?    Can  you  ex- 
plain why  such  a  crude  poem  as  "  Chevy  Chase  "  should  be  popular  with  an 
age  that  delighted  in  Pope's  "  Essay  on  Man  "  ? 

17.  Macpherson.    What  is   meant  by  Macpherson's  "  Ossian "  ?   Can  you 
account  for  the  remarkable  success  of  the  Ossianic  forgeries  ? 

1 8.  Chatterton.    Tell  the  story  of  Chatterton  and  the  Rowley  Poems.   Read 
Chatterton's  "  Bristowe  Tragedie,"  and  compare  it,  in  style  and  interest,  with 
the  old  ballads,  like  "  The  Battle  of  Otterburn  "  or  "  The  Hunting  of  the 
Cheviot"  (all  in  Manly's  English  Poetry}. 

19.  The  First  Novelists.    What  is  meant  by  the  modern  novel  ?    How  does 
it  differ  from  the  early  romance  and  from  the  adventure  story?    What  are 
some  of  the  precursors  of  the  novel  ?    What  was  the  purpose  of  stories  mod- 
eled after  Don  Quixote  ?   What  is  the  significance  of  Pamela  ?  What  elements 
did  Fielding  add  to  the  novel  ?    What  good  work  did  Goldsmith's   Vicar  of 
Wakefield  accomplish  ?    Compare  Goldsmith,  in  this  respect,  with  Steele  and 
Addison. 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  LITERATURE 


367 


CHRONOLOGY 

End  of  Seventeenth  and  the  Eighteenth  Century 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


1689.  William  and  Mary 

Bill  of  Rights.   Toleration  Act 

1 700  (?)   Beginning  of  London  clubs 
1702.  Anne  (d.  1714) 

War  of  Spanish  Succession 

1704.  Battle  of  Blenheim 

1 707.  Union  of  England  and  Scotland 


1714.  George  I  (d.  1727) 

1721.  Cabinet  government,  Walpole 
first  prime  minister 


1727.  George  II  (d.  1760) 
1738.  Rise  of  Methodism 
1740.  War  of  Austrian  Succession 
1746.  Jacobite  Rebellion 

1750-1757.  Conquest  of  India 

1756.  War  with  France 

1759.  Wolf  at  Quebec 

1760.  George  III  (d.  1820) 

1765.  Stamp  Act 


1683-1719.  Defoe's  early  writings 


1695.  Press  made  free 


1702.  First  daily  newspaper 
1704.  Addison's  The  Campaign 
Swift's  Tale  of  a  Tub 

1709.  The  Tatler 

Johnson  born  (d.  1784) 
1710-1713.  Swift  in  London.   Journal 
to  Stella 

1711.  The  Spectator 

1712.  Pope's  Rape  of  the  Lock 

1719.  Robinson  Crusoe 


1726.  Gulliver's  Travels 
1726-1730.  Thomson's  The  Seasons 

1732-1734.  Essay  on  Man 
1740.  Richardson's  Pamela 
1742.  Fielding's  Joseph  Andrews 

1749.  Fielding's  Tom  Jones 
1750-1752.  Johnson's  The  Rambler 
1751.  Gray's  Elegy 
1755.  Johnson's  Dictionary 


1760-1767.  Sterne's  Tristram  Shandy 

1764.  Johnson's  Literary  Club 

1765.  Percy's  Reliques 

1 766.  Goldsmith's  Vicar  of  Wakefield 


368 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


1773.  Boston  Tea  Party 

1774.  Howard's  prison  reforms 

1775.  American  Revolution 

1776.  Declaration  of  Independence 

1783.  Treaty  of  Paris 


1786.  Trial  of  Warren  Hastings 


1789-1799.  French  Revolution 


1793.  War  with  France 


1770.  Goldsmith's  Deserted  Village 

1771.  Beginning  of  great  newspapers 

1774-1775.  Burke's  American  speeches 
1776-1788.  Gibbon's  Rome 
1779.  Cowper's  Olney  Hymns 
1779-81.  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  Poets 
1783.  Blake's  Poetical  Sketches 

1785.  Cowper's  The  Task 
The  London  Times 

1 786.  Burns's  first  poems  (the  Kilmar- 

nock  Burns) 
Burke's  Warren  Hastings 

1790.  Burke's  French  Revolution 

1791.  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  (1800-1850) 

THE  SECOND  CREATIVE  PERIOD  OF  ENGLISH 
LITERATURE 

The  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  records  the  triumph 
of  Romanticism  in  literature  and  of  democracy  in  govern- 
ment ;  and  the  two  movements  are  so  closely  associated,  in 
so  many  nations  and  in  so  many  periods  of  history,  that  one 
must  wonder  if  there  be  not  some  relation  of  cause  and  effect 
between  them  Just  as  we  understand  the  tremendous  ener- 
gizing influence  of  Puritanism  in  the  matter  of  English  liberty 
by  remembering  that  the  common  people  had  begun  to  read, 
and  that  their  book  was  the  Bible,  so  we  may  understand  this 
age  of  popular  government  by  remembering  that  the  chief 
subject  of  romantic  literature  was  the  essential  nobleness  of 
common  men  and  the  value  of  the  individual.  As  we  read 
now  that  brief  portion  of  history  which  lies  between  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  (1776)  and  the  English  Reform 
Bill  of  1832,  we  are  in  the  presence  of  such  mighty  political 
upheavals  that  "the  age  of  revolution"  is  the  only  name  by 
which  we  can  adequately  characterize  it.  Its  great  historic 
movements  become  intelligible  only  when  we  read  what  was 
written  in  this  period ;  for  the  French  Revolution  and  the 
American  commonwealth,  as  well  as  the  establishment  of  a 
true  democracy  in  England  by  the  Reform  Bill,  were  the 
inevitable  results  of  ideas  which  literature  had  spread  rapidly 
through  the  civilized  world.  Liberty  is  fundamentally  an 
ideal ;  and  that  ideal  —  beautiful,  inspiring,  compelling,  as  a 
loved  banner  in  the  wind  —  was  kept  steadily  before  men's 
minds  by  a  multitude  of  books  and  pamphlets  as  far  apart  as 

369 


37P  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Burns's  Poems  and  Thomas  Paine's  Rights  of  Man,  —  all  read 
eagerly  by  the  common  people,  all  proclaiming  the  dignity  of 
common  life,  and  all  uttering  the  same  passionate  cry  against 
every  form  of  class  or  caste  oppression. 

First  the  dream,  the  ideal  in  some  human  soul ;  then  the 
written  word  which  proclaims  it,  and  impresses  other  minds 
with  its  truth  and  beauty ;  then  the  united  and  determined 
effort  of  men  to  make  the  dream  a  reality,  —  that  seems  to 
be  a  fair  estimate  of  the  part  that  literature  plays,  even  in  our 
political  progress. 

Historical  Summary.  The  period  we  are  considering  begins  in  the 
latter  half  of  the  reign  of  George  III  and  ends  with  the  accession  of 
Victoria  in  1837.  When  on  a  foggy  morning  in  November,  1783, 
King  George  entered  the  House  of  Lords  and  in  a  trembling  voice 
recognized  the  independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  he 
unconsciously  proclaimed  the  triumph  of  that  free  government  by 
free  men  which  had  been  the  ideal  of  English  literature  for  more 
than  a  thousand  years ;  though  it  was  not  till  1832,  when  the  Reform 
Bill  became  the  law  of  the  land,  that  England  herself  learned  the 
lesson  taught  her  by  America,  and  became  the  democracy  of  which 
her  writers  had  always  dreamed. 

The  half  century  between  these  two  events  is  one  of  great  turmoil, 
yet  of  steady  advance  in  every  department  of  English  life.  The 
The  French  storm  center  of  the  political  unrest  was  the  French 
Revolution  Revolution,  that  frightful  uprising  which  proclaimed  the 
natural  rights  of  man  and  the  abolition  of  class  distinctions.  Its 
effect  on  the  whole  civilized  world  is  beyond  computation.  Patriotic 
clubs  and  societies  multiplied  in  England,  all  asserting  the  doc- 
trine of  Liberty,  Equality,  Fraternity,  the  watchwords  of  the  Revo- 
lution. Young  England,  led  by  Pitt  the  younger,  hailed  the  new 
French  republic  and  offered  it  friendship ;  old  England,  which  par- 
dons no  revolutions  but  her  own,  looked  with  horror  on  the  turmoil 
in  France  and,  misled  by  Burke  and  the  nobles  of  the  realm,  forced 
the  two  nations  into  war.  Even  Pitt  saw  a  blessing  in  this  at  first ; 
because  the  sudden  zeal  for  fighting  a  foreign  nation  —  which  by 
some  horrible  perversion  is  generally  called  patriotism  —  might  turn 
men's  thoughts  from  their  own  to  their  neighbors'  affairs,  and  so  pre- 
vent a  threatened  revolution  at  home. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  3/1 

The  causes  of  this  threatened  revolution  were  not  political  but 
economic.  By  her  inventions  in  steel  and  machinery,  and  by  her 
Economic  monopoly  of  the  carrying  trade,  England  had  become 
Conditions  "  the  workshop  of  the  world."  Her  wealth  had  increased 
beyond  her  wildest  dreams;  but  the  unequal  distribution  of  that 
wealth  was  a  spectacle  to  make  angels  weep.  The  invention  of 
machinery  at  first  threw  thousands  of  skilled  hand  workers  out  of 
employment ;  in  order  to  protect  a  few  agriculturists,  heavy  duties 
were  imposed  on  corn  and  wheat,  and  bread  rose  to  famine  prices 
just  when  laboring  men  had  the  least  money  to  pay  for  it.  There 
followed  a  curious  spectacle.  While  England  increased  in  wealth, 
and  spent  vast  sums  to  support  her  army  and  subsidize  her  allies  in 
Europe,  and  while  nobles,  landowners,  manufacturers,  and  merchants 
lived  in  increasing  luxury,  a  multitude  of  skilled  laborers  were  clam- 
oring for  work.  Fathers  sent  their  wives  and  little  children  into  the 
mines  and  factories,  where  sixteen  hours'  labor  would  hardly  pay  for 
the  daily  bread ;  and  in  every  large  city  were  riotous  mobs  made  up 
chiefly  of  hungry  men  and  women.  It  was  this  unbearable  economic 
condition,  and  not  any  political  theory,  as  Burke  supposed,  which 
occasioned  the  danger  of  another  English  revolution. 

It  is  only  when  we  remember  these  conditions  that  we  can  under- 
stand two  books,  Adam  Smith's  Wealth  of  Nations  and  Thomas 
Paine's  Rights  of  Man,  which  can  hardly  be  considered  as  literature, 
but  which  exercised  an  enormous  influence  in  England.  Smith  was 
a  Scottish  thinker,  who  wrote  to  uphold  the  doctrine  that  labor  is 
the  only  source  of  a  nation's  wealth,  and  that  any  attempt  to  force 
labor  into  unnatural  channels,  or  to  prevent  it  by  protective  duties 
from  freely  obtaining  the  raw  materials  for  its  industry,  is  unjust  and 
destructive.  Paine  was  a  curious  combination  of  Jekyll  and  Hyde, 
shallow  and  untrustworthy  personally,  but  with  a  passionate  devotion 
to  popular  liberty.  His  Rights  of  Man,  published  in  London  in 
1791,  was  like  one  of  Burns's  lyric  outcries  against  institutions  which 
oppressed  humanity.  Coming  so  soon  after  the  destruction  of  the 
Bastille,  it  added  fuel  to  the  flames  kindled  in  England  by  the 
French  Revolution.  The  author  was  driven  out  of  the  country,  on 
the  curious  ground  that  he  endangered  the  English  constitution,  but 
not  until  his  book  had  gained  a  wide  sale  and  influence. 

All  these  dangers,  real  and  imaginary,  passed  away  when  England 
turned  from  the  affairs  of  France  to  remedy  her  own  economic  con- 
ditions. The  long  Continental  war  came  to  an  end  with  Napoleon's 


3/2  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

overthrow  at  Waterloo,  in  1815  ;  and  England,  having  gained  enor- 
mously in  prestige  abroad,  now  turned  to  the  work  of  reform  at 
home.  The  destruction  of  the  African  slave  trade ;  the 
mitigation  of  horribly  unjust  laws,  which  included  poor 
debtors  and  petty  criminals  in  the  same  class ;  the  prevention  of 
child  labor;  the  freedom  of  the  press;  the  extension  of  manhood 
suffrage  ;  the  abolition  of  restrictions  against  Catholics  in  Parliament ; 
the  establishment  of  hundreds  of  popular  schools,  under  the  leader- 
ship of  Andrew  Bell  and  Joseph  Lancaster,  —  these  are  but  a  few  of 
the  reforms  which  mark  the  progress  of  civilization  in  a  single  half 
century.  When  England,  in  1833,  proclaimed  the  emancipation  of 
all  slaves  in  all  her  colonies,  she  unconsciously  proclaimed  her  final 
emancipation  from  barbarism. 

Literary  Characteristics  of  the  Age.  It  is  intensely  inter- 
esting to  note  how  literature  at  first  reflected  the  political 
turmoil  of  the  age  ;  and  then,  when  the  turmoil  was  over  and 
England  began  her  mighty  work  of  reform,  how  literature 
suddenly  developed  a  new  creative  spirit,  which  shows  itself 
in  the  poetry  of  Wordsworth,  Coleridge,  Byron,  Shelley, 
Keats,  and  in  the  prose  of  Scott,  Jane  Austen,  Lamb,  and 
De  Quincey,  —  a  wonderful  group  of  writers,  whose  patriotic 
enthusiasm  suggests  the  Elizabethan  days,  and  whose  genius 
has  caused  their  age  to  be  known  as  the  second  creative 
period  of  our  literature.  Thus  in  the  early  days,  when  old 
institutions  seemed  crumbling  with  the  Bastille,  Coleridge  and 
Southey  formed  their  youthful  scheme  of  a  "  Pantisocracy  on 
Romantic  tne  banks  of  the  Susquehanna,"  -  —  an  ideal  corn- 
Enthusiasm  monwealth,  in  which  the  principles  of  More's  Utopia 
should  be  put  in  practice.  Even  Wordsworth,  fired  with  po- 
litical enthusiasm,  could  write, 

Bliss  was  it  in  that  dawn  to  be  alive, 
But  to  be  young  was  very  heaven. 

The  essence  of  Romanticism  was,  it  must  be  remembered,  that 
literature  must  reflect  all  that  is  spontaneous  and  unaffected 
in  nature  and  in  man,  and  be  free  to  follow  its  own  fancy  in 
its  own  way.  We  have  already  noted  this  characteristic  in  the 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  373 

work  of  the  Elizabethan  dramatists,  who  followed  their  own 
genius  in  opposition  to  all  the  laws  of  the  critics.  In  Coleridge 
we  see  this  independence  expressed  in  "  Kubla  Khan"  and 
"The  Ancient  Mariner,"  two  dream  pictures,  one  of  the  popu- 
lous Orient,  the  other  of  the  lonely  sea.  In  Wordsworth  this 
literary  independence  led  him  inward  to  the  heart  of  common 
things.  Following  his  own  instinct,  as  Shakespeare  does,  he  too 

Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  everything. 

And  so,  more  than  any  other  writer  of  the  age,  he  invests  the 
common  life  of  nature,  and  the  souls  of  common  men  and 
women,  with  glorious  significance.  These  two  poets,  Coleridge 
and  Wordsworth,  best  represent  the  romantic  genius  of  the 
age  in  which  they  lived,  though  Scott  had  a  greater  literary 
reputation,  and  Byron  and  Shelley  had  larger  audiences. 

The  second  characteristic  of  this  age  is  that  it  is  emphatic- 
ally an  age  of  poetry.  The  previous  century,  with  its  practical 
An  Age  of  outlook  on  life,  was  largely  one  of  prose  ;  but  now, 
Poetry  as  jn  the  Elizabethan  Age,  the  young  enthusiasts 

turned  as  naturally  to  poetry  as  a  happy  man  to  singing.  The 
glory  of  the  age  is  in  the  poetry  of  Scott,  Wordsworth,  Coler- 
idge, Byron,  Shelley,  Keats,  Moore,  and  Southey.  Of  its  prose 
works,  those  of  Scott  alone  have  attained  a  very  wide  reading, 
though  the  essays  of  Charles  Lamb  and  the  novels  of  Jane 
Austen  have  slowly  won  for  their  authors  a  secure  place  in 
the  history  of  our  literature.  Coleridge  and  Southey  (who 
with  Wordsworth  form  the  trio  of  so-called  Lake  Poets)  wrote 
far  more  prose  than  poetry ;  and  Southey 's  prose  is  much 
better  than  his  verse.  It  was  characteristic  of  the  spirit  of 
this  age,  so  different  from  our  own,  that  Southey  could  say 
that,  in  order  to  earn  money,  he  wrote  in  verse  "  what  would 
otherwise  have  been  better  written  in  prose." 

It  was  during  this  period  that  woman  assumed,  for  the  first 
time,  an  important  place  in  our  literature.  Probably  the  chief 


374  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

reason  for  this  interesting  phenomenon  lies  in  the  fact  that 
woman  was  for  the  first  time  given  some  slight  chance  of 
Women  as  education,  of  entering  into  the  intellectual  life  of 
Novelists  the  race  j  anfif  as  js  always  the  case  when  woman  is 
given  anything  like  a  fair  opportunity,  she  responded  magnifi- 
cently. A  secondary  reason  may  be  found  in  the  nature  of 
the  age  itself,  which  was  intensely  emotional.  The  French 
Revolution  stirred  all  Europe  to  its  depths,  and  during  the 
following  half  century  every  great  movement  in  literature,  as 
in  politics  and  religion,  was  characterized  by  strong  emotion  ; 
which  is  all  the  more  noticeable  by  contrast  with  the  cold, 
formal,  satiric  spirit  of  the  early  eighteenth  century.  As 
woman  is  naturally  more  emotional  than  man,  it  may  well  be 
that  the  spirit  of  this  emotional  age  attracted  her,  and  gave 
her  the  opportunity  to  express  herself  in  literature. 

As  all  strong  emotions  tend  to  extremes,  the  age  produced 
a  new  type  of  novel  which  seems  rather  hysterical  now,  but 
which  in  its  own  day  delighted  multitudes  of  readers  whose 
nerves  were  somewhat  excited,  and  who  reveled  in  "  bogey  " 
stories  of  supernatural  terror.  Mrs.  Anne  Radcliffe  (1764- 
1823)  was  one  of  the  most  successful  writers  of  this  school 
of  exaggerated  romance.  Her  novels,  with  their  azure-eyed 
heroines,  haunted  castles,  trapdoors,  bandits,  abductions,  res- 
cues in  the  nick  of  time,  and  a  general  medley  of  overwrought 
joys  and  horrors,1  were  immensely  popular,  not  only  with  the 

1  Mrs.  Radcliffe's  best  work  is  the  Mysteries  of  Udolpho.  This  is  the  story  of  a  tender 
heroine  shut  up  in  a  gloomy  castle.  Over  her  broods  the  terrible  shadow  of  an  ancestor's 
crime.  There  are  the  usual  "goose-flesh"  accompaniments  of  haunted  rooms,  secret 
doors,  sliding  panels,  mysterious  figures  behind  old  pictures,  and  a  subterranean  passage 
leading  to  a  vault,  dark  and  creepy  as  a  tomb.  Here  the  heroine  finds  a  chest  with 
blood-stained  papers.  By  the  light  of  a  flickering  candle  she  reads,  with  chills  and 
shivering,  the  record  of  long-buried  crimes.  At  the  psychologic  moment  the  little  candle 
suddenly  goes  out.  Then  out  of  the  darkness  a  cold,  clammy  hand  —  ugh!  Foolish 
as  such  stories  seem  to  us  now,  they  show,  first,  a  wild  reaction  from  the  skepticism  of 
ths  preceding  age ;  and  second,  a  development  of  the  mediaeval  romance  of  adventure ; 
only  the  adventure  is  here  inward  rather  than  outward.  It  faces  a  ghost  instead  of  a 
dragon ;  and  for  this  work  a  nun  with  her  beads  is  better  than  a  knight  in  armor.  So 
heroines  abound,  instead  of  heroes.  The  age  was  too  educated  for  mediaeval  monsters 
and  magic,  but  not  educated  enough  to  reject  ghosts  and  other  bogeys. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  375 

crowd  of  novel  readers,  but  also  with  men  of  unquestioned 
literary  genius,  like  Scott  and  Byron. 

In  marked  contrast  to  these  extravagant  stories  is  the 
enduring  work  of  Jane  Austen,  with  her  charming  descrip- 
tions of  everyday  life,  and  of  Maria  Edgeworth,  whose  won- 
derful pictures  of  Irish  life  suggested  to  Walter  Scott  the 
idea  of  writing  his  Scottish  romances.  Two  other  women  who 
attained  a  more  or  less  lasting  fame  were  Hannah  More,  poet, 
dramatist,  and  novelist,  and  Jane  Porter,  whose  Scottish  Chiefs 
and  Thaddeus  of  Warsaw  are  still  in  demand  in  our  libraries. 
Beside  these  were  Fanny  Burney  (Madame  D'Arblay)  and 
several  other  writers  whose  works,  in  the  early  part  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  raised  woman  to  the  high  place  in  liter- 
ature which  she  has  ever  since  maintained. 

In  this  age  literary  criticism  became  firmly  established  by 
the  appearance  of  such  magazines  as  the  Edinburgh  Review 
The  Modern  (1802),  The  Quarterly  Review  (1808),  Blackwood's 
Magazines  Magazine  (1817),  the  Westminster  Review  ( 1 824), 
The  Spectator  (1828),  The  Athenceum  (1828),  and  Fraser's 
Magazine  (1830).  These  magazines,  edited  by  such  men  as 
Francis  Jeffrey,  John  Wilson  (who  is  known  to  us  as  Chris- 
topher North),  and  John  Gibson  Lockhart,  who  gave  us  the 
Life  of  Scott,  exercised  an  immense  influence  on  all  subse- 
quent literature.  At  first  their  criticisms  were  largely  de- 
structive, as  when  Jeffrey  hammered  Scott,  Wordsworth,  and 
Byron  most  unmercifully ;  and  Lockhart  could  find  no  good 
in  either  Keats  or  Tennyson  ;  but  with  added  wisdom,  criti- 
cism assumed  its  true  function  of  construction.  And  when 
these  magazines  began  to  seek  and  to  publish  the  works  of 
unknown  writers,  like  Hazlitt,  Lamb,  and  Leigh  Hunt,  they 
discovered  the  chief  mission  of  the  modern  magazine,  which 
is  to  give  every  writer  of  ability  the  opportunity  to  make  his 
work  known  to  the  world. 


376 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


I.  THE  POETS  OF  ROMANTICISM 
WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH  (1770-1850) 

It  was  in  1797  that  the  new  romantic  movement  in  our 
literature  assumed  definite  form.  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge 
retired  to  the  Quantock  Hills,  Somerset,  and  there  formed 
the  deliberate  purpose  to  make  literature  "  adapted  to  interest 

mankind  permanently/' 
which,  they  declared, 
classic  poetry  could 
never  do.  Helping  the 
two  poets  was  Words- 
worth's sister  Dorothy, 
with  a  woman's  love  for 
flowers  and  all  beautiful 
things,  and  a  woman's 
divine  sympathy  for 
human  life  even  in  its 
lowliest  forms.  Though 
a  silent  partner,  she 
furnished  perhaps  the 
largest  share  of  the  in- 
spiration which  resulted 
in  the  famous  Lyrical 
Ballads  of  1 798.  In  their  partnership  Coleridge  was  to  take  up 
the  "  supernatural,  or  at  least  romantic  "  ;  while  Wordsworth 
was  "  to  give  the  charm  of  novelty  to  things  of  every  day  .  .  . 
by  awakening  the  mind's  attention  from  the  lethargy  of  custom 
and  directing  it  to  the  loveliness  and  the  wonders  of  the  world 
before  us."  The  whole  spirit  of  their  work  is  reflected  in  two 
poems  of  this  remarkable  little  volume,  "  The  Rime  of  the  An- 
cient Mariner,"  which  is  Coleridge's  masterpiece,  and  "Lines 
Written  a  Few  Miles  above  Tintern  Abbey,"  which  expresses 
Wordsworth's  poetical  creed,  and  which  is  one  of  the  noblest 
and  most  significant  of  our  poems.  That  the  Lyrical  Ballads 


WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  377 

attracted  no  attention,1  and  was  practically  ignored  by  a 
public  that  would  soon  go  into  raptures  over  Byron's  Childe 
Harold  and  Don  Juan,  is  of  small  consequence.  Many  men 
will  hurry  a  mile  to  see  skyrockets,  who  never  notice  Orion 
and  the  Pleiades  from  their  own  doorstep.  Had  Wordsworth 
and  Coleridge  written  only  this  one  little  book,  they  would 
still  be  among  the  representative  writers  of  an  age  that  pro- 
claimed the  final  triumph  of  Romanticism. 

Life  of  Wordsworth.  To  understand  the  life  of  him  who,  in 
Tennyson's  words,  "uttered  nothing  base,"  it  is  well  to  read  first 
The  Prelude ',  which  records  the  impressions  made  upon  Wordsworth's 
mind  from  his  earliest  recollection  until  his  full  manhood,  in  1805, 
when  the  poem  was  completed.2  Outwardly  his  long  and  uneventful 
life  divides  itself  naturally  into  four  periods  :  (i)  his  childhood  and 
youth,  in  the  Cumberland  Hills,  from  1770  to  1787;  (2)  a  period 
of  uncertainty,  of  storm  and  stress,  including  his  university  life  at 
Cambridge,  his  travels  abroad,  and  his  revolutionary  experience, 
from  1787  to  1797;  (3)  a  short  but  significant  period  of  finding 
himself  and  his  work,  from  1797  to  1799;  (4)  along  period  of 
retirement  in  the  northern  lake  region,  where  he  was  born,  and 
where  for  a  full  half  century  he  lived  so  close  to  nature  that  her 
influence  is  reflected  in  all  his  poetry.  When  one  has  outlined  these 
four  periods  he  has  told  almost  all  that  can  be  told  of  a  life  which 
is  marked,  not  by  events,  but  largely  by  spiritual  experiences. 

Wordsworth  was  born  in  1770  at  Cockermouth,  Cumberland,  where 

the  Derwent, 

Fairest  of  all  rivers,  loved 
To  blend  his  murmurs  with  my  nurse's  song, 
And  from  his  alder  shades  and  rocky  falls, 
And  from  his  fords  and  shallows,  sent  a  voice 
That  flowed  along  my  dreams. 

It  is  almost  a  shock  to  one  who  knows  Wordsworth  only  by  his  calm 
and  noble  poetry  to  read  that  he  was  of  a  moody  and  violent  temper, 
and  that  his  mother  despaired  of  him  alone  among  her  five  children. 
She  died  when  he  was  but  eight  years  old,  but  not  till  she  had 

1  The  Lyrical  Ballads  were  better  appreciated  in  America  than  in  England.    The 
first  edition  was  printed  here  in  1802. 

2  The  Prelude  was  not  published  till  after  Wordsworth's  death,  nearly  half  a  century 
later. 


378  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

exerted  an  influence  which  lasted  all  his  life,  so  that  he  could  re- 
member her  as  "  the  heart  of  all  our  learnings  and  our  loves."  The 
father  died  some  six  years  later,  and  the  orphan  was  taken  in  charge 
by  relatives,  who  sent  him  to  school  at  Hawkshead,  in  the  beautiful 
lake  region.  Here,  apparently,  the  unroofed  school  of  nature 
attracted  him  more  than  the  discipline  of  the  classics,  and  he 
learned  more  eagerly  from  flowers  and  hills  and  stars  than  from  his 
books ;  but  one  must  read  Wordsworth's  own  record,  in  The  Prelude, 
to  appreciate  this.  Three  things  in  this  poem  must  impress  even 
the  casual  reader  :  first,  Wordsworth  loves  to  be  alone,  and  is  never 
lonely,  with  nature  ;  second,  like  every  other  child  who  spends  much 
time  alone  in  the  woods  and  fields,  he  feels  the  presence  of  some 
living  spirit,  real  though  unseen,  and  companionable  though  silent ; 
third,  his  impressions  are  exactly  like  our  own,  and  delightfully 
familiar.  When  he  tells  of  the  long  summer  day  spent  in  swimming, 
basking  in  the  sun,  and  questing  over  the  hills;  or  of  the  winter 
night  when,  on  his  skates,  he  chased  the  reflection  of  a  star  in  the 
black  ice ;  or  of  his  exploring  the  lake  in  a  boat,  and  getting  sud- 
denly frightened  when  the  world  grew  big  and  strange,  —  in  all  this 
he  is  simply  recalling  a  multitude  of  our  own  vague,  happy  memo- 
ries of  childhood.  He  goes  out  into  the  woods  at  night  to  tend  his 
woodcock  snares ;  he  runs  across  another  boy's  snares,  follows  them, 
finds  a  woodcock  caught,  takes  it,  hurries  away  through  the  night. 

And  then, 

I  heard  among  the  solitary  hills 

Low  breathings  coming  after  me,  and  sounds 

Of  undistinguishable  motion. 

That  is  like  a  mental  photograph.  Any  boy  who  has  come  home 
through  the  woods  at  night  will  recognize  it  instantly.  Again  he  tells 
us  of  going  bird's-nesting  on  the  cliffs  : 

Oh,  when  I  have  hung 
Above  the  raven's  nest,  by  knots  of  grass 
And  half-inch  fissures  in  the  slippery  rock 
But  ill-sustained,  and  almost  (so  it  seemed) 
Suspended  by  the  blast  that  blew  amain, 
Shouldering  the  naked  crag,  —  oh,  at  that  time, 
While  on  the  perilous  ridge  I  hung  alone, 
With  what  strange  utterance  did  the  loud  dry  wind 
Blow  through  my  ear !  The  sky  seemed  not  a  sky 
Of  earth,  —  and  with  what  motion  moved  the  clouds ! 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  379 

No  man  can  read  such  records  without  rinding  his  own  boyhood  again, 
and  his  own  abounding  joy  of  life,  in  the  poet's  early  impressions. 

The  second  period  of  Wordsworth's  life  begins  with  his  university 
course  at  Cambridge,  in  1787.  In  the  third  book  of  The  Prelude  we 
find  a  dispassionate  account  of  student  life,  with  its  trivial  occupa- 
tions, its  pleasures  and  general  aimlessness.  Wordsworth  proved  to 
be  a  very  ordinary  scholar,  following  his  own  genius  rather  than  the 
curriculum,  and  looking  forward  more  eagerly  to  his  vacation  among 
the  hills  than  to  his  examinations.  Perhaps  the  most  interesting 
thing  in  his  life  at  Cambridge  was  his  fellowship  with  the  young 
political  enthusiasts,  whose  spirit  is  expressed  in  his  remarkable 
poem  on  the  French  Revolution, — a  poem  which  is  better  than  a 
volume  of  history  to  show  the  hopes  and  ambitions  that  stirred  all 
Europe  in  the  first  days  of  that  mighty  upheaval.  Wordsworth  made 
two  trips  to  France,  in  1790  and  1791,  seeing  things  chiefly  through 
the  rosy  spectacles  of  the  young  Oxford  Republicans.  On  his  second 
visit  he  joined  the  Girondists,  or  the  moderate  Republicans,  and 
only  the  decision  of  his  relatives,  who  cut  off  his  allowance  and 
hurried  him  back  to  England,  prevented  his  going  headlong  to  the 
guillotine  with  the  leaders  of  his  party.  Two  things  rapidly  cooled 
Wordsworth's  revolutionary  enthusiasm,  and  ended  the  only  dramatic 
interest  of  his  placid  life.  One  was  the  excesses  of  the  Revolution 
itself,  and  especially  the  execution  of  Louis  XVI ;  the  other  was  the 
rise  of  Napoleon,  and  the  slavish  adulation  accorded  by  France  to 
this  most  vulgar  and  dangerous  of  tyrants.  His  coolness  soon  grew  to 
disgust  and  opposition,  as  shown  by  his  subsequent  poems ;  and  this 
brought  upon  him  the  censure  of  Shelley,  Byron,  and  other  extrem- 
ists, though  it  gained  the  friendship  of  Scott,  who  from  the  first  had  no 
sympathy  with  the  Revolution  or  with  the  young  English  enthusiasts. 

Of  the  decisive  period  of  Wordsworth's  life,  when  he  was  living 
with  his  sister  Dorothy  and  with  Coleridge  at  Alfoxden,  we  have 
already  spoken.  The  importance  of  this  decision  to  give  himself  to 
poetry  is  evident  when  we  remember  that,  at  thirty  years  of  age,  he 
was  without  money  or  any  definite  aim  or  occupation  in  life.  He 
considered  the  law,  but  confessed  he  had  no  sympathy  for  its  con- 
tradictory precepts  and  practices;  he  considered  the  ministry,  but 
though  strongly  inclined  to  the  Church,  he  felt  himself  not  good 
enough  for  the  sacred  office ;  once  he  had  wanted  to  be  a  soldier 
and  serve  his  country,  but  had  wavered  at  the  prospect  of  dying  of 
disease  in  a  foreign  land  and  throwing  away  his  life  without  glory  or 


382  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Wordsworth  set  himself  to  the  task  of  freeing  poetry  from  all 
its  "  conceits,"  of  speaking  the  language  of  simple  truth,  and 
of  portraying  man  and  nature  as  they  are ;  and  in  this  good 
work  we  are  apt  to  miss  the  beauty,  the  passion,  the  intensity, 
that  hide  themselves  under  his  simplest  lines.  The  second 
difficulty  is  in  the  poet,  not  in  the  reader.  It  must  be  con- 
fessed that  Wordsworth  is  not  always  melodious ;  that  he  is 
seldom  graceful,  and  only  occasionally  inspired.  When  he  is 
inspired,  few  poets  can  be  compared  with  him  ;  at  other  times 
the  bulk  of  his  verse  is  so  wooden  and  prosy  that  we  wonder 
how  a  poet  could  have  written  it.  Moreover,  he  is  absolutely 
without  humor,  and  so  he  often  fails  to  see  the  small  step 
that  separates  the  sublime  from  the  ridiculous.  In  no  other 
way  can  we  explain  "The  Idiot  Boy,"  or  pardon  the  serious 
absurdity  of  "  Peter  Bell  "  and  his  grieving  jackass. 

On  account  of  these  difficulties  it  is  well  to  avoid  at  first 
the  longer  works  and  begin  with  a  good  book  of  selections.1 
Poems  of  When  we  read  these  exquisite  shorter  poems,  with 
Nature  their  noble  lines  that  live  forever  in  our  memory, 
we  realize  that  Wordsworth  is  the  greatest  poet  of  nature 
that  our  literature  has  produced.  If  we  go  further,  and  study 
the  poems  that  impress  us,  we  shall  find  four  remarkable 
characteristics  :  (i)  Wordsworth  is  sensitive  as  a  barometer 
to  every  subtle  change  in  the  world  about  him.  In  The  Pre- 
lude he  compares  himself  to  an  seolian  harp,  which  answers 
with  harmony  to  every  touch  of  the  wind ;  and  the  figure  is 
strikingly  accurate,  as  well  as  interesting,  for  there  is  hardly 
a  sight  or  a  sound,  from  a  violet  to  a  mountain  and  from  a 
bird  note  to  the  thunder  of  the  cataract,  that  is  not  reflected 
in  some  beautiful  way  in  Wordsworth's  poetry. 

(2)  Of  all  the  poets  who  have  written  of  nature  there  is 
none  that  compares  with  him  in  the  truthfulness  of  his  repre- 
sentation. Burns,  like  Gray,  is  apt  to  read  his  own  emotions 

1  Dowden's  Selections  from  Wordsworth  is  the  best  of  many  such  collections.  See 
Selections  for  Reading,  and  Bibliography,  at  the  end  of  this  chapter. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM 


381 


had  ever  produced.  On  the  death  of  Southey  (1843)  he  was  made 
poet  laureate,  against  his  own  inclination.  The  late  excessive  praise 
left  him  quite  as  unmoved  as  the  first  excessive  neglect.  The  steady 
decline  in  the  quality  of  his  work  is  due  not,  as  might  be  expected, 
to  self-satisfaction  at  success,  but  rather  to  his  intense  conserva- 
tism, to  his  living  too  much  alone  and  failing  to  test  his  work  by  the 
standards  and  judgment  of  other  literary  men.  He  died  tranquilly  in 
1850,  at  the  age  of 
eighty  years,  and  was 
buried  in  the  church- 
yard at  Grasmere. 

Such  is  the  brief 
outward  record  of  the 
world's  greatest  in- 
terpreter of  nature's 
message;  and  only 
one  who  is  acquainted 
with  both  nature  and 
the  poet  can  realize 
how  inadequate  is 
any  biography ;  for 
the  best  thing  about 
Wordsworth  must  always  remain  unsaid.  It  is  a  comfort  to  know 
that  his  life,  noble,  sincere,  "  heroically  happy,"  never  contradicted 
his  message.  Poetry  was  his  life ;  his  soul  was  in  all  his  work ;  and 
only  by  reading  what  he  has  written  can  we  understand  the  man. 

The  Poetry  of  Wordsworth.  There  is  often  a  sense  of  dis- 
appointment when  one  reads  Wordsworth  for  the  first  time ; 
and  this  leads  us  to  speak  first  of  two  difficulties  which  may 
easily  prevent  a  just  appreciation  of  the  poet's  worth.  The 
first  difficulty  is  in  the  reader,  who  is  often  puzzled  by  Words- 
worth's absolute  simplicity.  We  are  so  used  to  stage  effects 
in  poetry,  that  beauty  unadorned  is  apt  to  escape  our  notice, 
— like  Wordsworth's  uLucy": 

A  violet  by  a  mossy  stone, 

Half  hidden  from  the  eye  ; 
Fair  as  a  star,  when  only  one 

Is  shining  in  the  sky. 


WORDSWORTH'S  HOME  AT  RYDAL  MOUNT 


3^2  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Wordsworth  set  himself  to  the  task  of  freeing  poetry  from  all 
its  "  conceits,"  of  speaking  the  language  of  simple  truth,  and 
of  portraying  man  and  nature  as  they  are ;  and  in  this  good 
work  we  are  apt  to  miss  the  beauty,  the  passion,  the  intensity, 
that  hide  themselves  under  his  simplest  lines.  The  second 
difficulty  is  in  the  poet,  not  in  the  reader.  It  must  be  con- 
fessed that  Wordsworth  is  not  always  melodious ;  that  he  is 
seldom  graceful,  and  only  occasionally  inspired.  When  he  is 
inspired,  few  poets  can  be  compared  with  him  ;  at  other  times 
the  bulk  of  his  verse  is  so  wooden  and  prosy  that  we  wonder 
how  a  poet  could  have  written  it.  Moreover,  he  is  absolutely 
without  humor,  and  so  he  often  fails  to  see  the  small  step 
that  separates  the  sublime  from  the  ridiculous.  In  no  other 
way  can  we  explain  "The  Idiot  Boy,"  or  pardon  the  serious 
absurdity  of  "  Peter  Bell  "  and  his  grieving  jackass. 

On  account  of  these  difficulties  it  is  well  to  avoid  at  first 
the  longer  works  and  begin  with  a  good  book  of  selections.1 
Poems  of  When  we  read  these  exquisite  shorter  poems,  with 
Nature  their  noble  lines  that  live  forever  in  our  memory, 
we  realize  that  Wordsworth  is  the  greatest  poet  of  nature 
that  our  literature  has  produced.  If  we  go  further,  and  study 
the  poems  that  impress  us,  we  shall  find  four  remarkable 
characteristics  :  (i)  Wordsworth  is  sensitive  as  a  barometer 
to  every  subtle  change  in  the  world  about  him.  In  The  Pre- 
lude he  compares  himself  to  an  seolian  harp,  which  answers 
with  harmony  to  every  touch  of  the  wind ;  and  the  figure  is 
strikingly  accurate,  as  well  as  interesting,  for  there  is  hardly 
a  sight  or  a  sound,  from  a  violet  to  a  mountain  and  from  a 
bird  note  to  the  thunder  of  the  cataract,  that  is  not  reflected 
in  some  beautiful  way  in  Wordsworth's  poetry. 

(2)  Of  all  the  poets  who  have  written  of  nature  there  is 
none  that  compares  with  him  in  the  truthfulness  of  his  repre- 
sentation. Burns,  like  Gray,  is  apt  to  read  his  own  emotions 

1  Dowden's  Selections  from  Words-worth  is  the  best  of  many  such  collections.  See 
Selections  for  Reading,  and  Bibliography,  at  the  end  of  this  chapter. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  383 

into  natural  objects,  so  that  there  is  more  of  the  poet  than  of 
nature  even  in  his  mouse  and  mountain  daisy ;  but  Words- 
worth gives  you  the  bird  and  the  flower,  the  wind  and  the 
tree  and  the  river,  just  as  they  are,  and  is  content  to  let  them 
speak  their  own  message. 

(3)  No  other  poet  ever  found  such  abundant  beauty  in  the 
common  world.    He  had  not  only  sight,  but  insight,  that  is,  he 
not  only  sees  clearly  and  describes  accurately,  but  penetrates 
to  the  heart  of  things  and  always  finds  some  exquisite  meaning 
that  is  not  written  on  the  surface.    It  is  idle  to  specify  or  to 
quote  lines  on  flowers  or  stars,  on  snow  or  vapor.    Nothing  is 
ugly  or  commonplace  in  his  world ;  on  the  contrary,  there 
is  hardly  one  natural  phenomenon  which  he  has  not  glorified 
by  pointing  out  some  beauty  that  was  hidden  from  our  eyes. 

(4)  It  is  the  life  of  nature  which  is  everywhere  recognized  ; 
not  mere  growth  and   cell   changes,  but   sentient,  personal 
life ;  and  the  recognition  of  this  personality  in  nature  charac- 
terizes all  the  world's  great  poetry.    In  his  childhood  Words- 
worth regarded  natural  objects,  the  streams,   the  hills,  the 
flowers,  even  the  winds,  as   his   companions  ;   and  with  his 
mature  belief  that  all  nature  is  the  reflection  of  the  living 
God,  it  was  inevitable  that  his  poetry  should  thrill  with  the 
sense  of  a  Spirit  that  "rolls  through  all  things."     Cowper, 
Burns,  Keats,  Tennyson,  —  all  these  poets  give  you  the  out- 
ward aspects  of  nature  in  varying  degrees  ;  but  Wordsworth 
gives  you  her  very  life,  and  the  impression  of  some  personal 
living  spirit  that  meets  and  accompanies  the  man  who  goes 
alone  through  the  woods  and  fields.    We  shall  hardly  find, 
even  in  the  philosophy  of  Leibnitz,  or  in  the  nature  myths  of 
our  Indians,  any  such  impression  of  living  nature  as  this  poet 
awakens  in  us.    And  that  suggests  another  delightful  charac- 
teristic of  Wordsworth's  poetry,  namely,   that  he  seems  to 
awaken  rather  than  create  an  impression  ;  he  stirs  our  mem- 
ory deeply,  so  that  in  reading  him  we  live  once  more  in  the 
vague,  beautiful  wonderland  of  our  own  childhood. 


384  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Such  is  the  philosophy  of  Wordsworth's  nature  poetry.  If 
we  search  now  for  his  philosophy  of  human  life,  we  shall  find 
Poems  of  HU-  f°ur  more  doctrines,  which  rest  upon  his  basal  con- 
man  Life  ception  that  man  is  not  apart  from  nature,  but  is 
the  very  "life  of  her  life."  (i)  In  childhood  man  is  sensitive 
as  a  wind  harp  to  all  natural  influences ;  he  is  an  epitome  of 
the  gladness  and  beauty  of  the  world.  Wordsworth  explains 
this  gladness  and  this  sensitiveness  to  nature  by  the  doctrine 
that  the  child  comes  straight  from  the  Creator  of  nature : 

Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting : 
The  Soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  Star, 

Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 
And  cometh  from  afar: 

Not  in  entire  forgetfulness 

And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 
But  trailing  clouds  of  glory  do  we  come 

From  God,  who  is  our  home. 

In  this  exquisite  ode,  which  he  calls  "  Intimations  of  Immortality 
from  Recollections  of  Early  Childhood"  (1807),  Wordsworth 
sums  up  his  philosophy  of  childhood ;  and  he  may  possibly 
be  indebted  here  to  the  poet  Vaughan,  who,  more  than  a 
century  before,  had  proclaimed  in  "  The  Retreat "  the  same 
doctrine.  This  kinship  with  nature  and  with  God,  which 
glorifies  childhood,  ought  to  extend  through  a  man's  whole 
life  and  ennoble  it.  This  is  the  teaching  of  "  Tintern  Abbey," 
in  which  the  best  part  of  our  life  is  shown  to  be  the  result  of 
natural  influences.  According  to  Wordsworth,  society  and 
the  crowded  unnatural  life  of  cities  tend  to  weaken  and  per- 
vert humanity ;  and  a  return  to  natural  and  simple  living  is 
the  only  remedy  for  human  wretchedness. 

(2)  The  natural  instincts  and  pleasures  of  childhood  are  the 
true  standards  of  a  man's  happiness  in  this  life.  All  artificial 
pleasures  soon  grow  tiresome.  The  natural  pleasures,  which 
a  man  so  easily  neglects  in  his  work,  are  the  chief  means  by 
which  we  may  expect  permanent  and  increasing  joy.  In 
"Tintern  Abbey,"  "The  Rainbow,"  "Ode  to  Duty,"  and 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  385 

"  Intimations  of  Immortality "  we  see  this  plain  teaching ; 
but  we  can  hardly  read  one  of  Wordsworth's  pages  without 
finding  it  slipped  in  unobtrusively,  like  the  fragrance  of  a 
wild  flower. 

(3)  The  truth  of  humanity,  that  is,  the  common  life  which 
labors  and  loves  and  shares  the  general  heritage  of  smiles 
and  tears,  is  the  only  subject  of  permanent  literary  interest. 
Burns  and  the  early  poets  of  the  Revival  began  the  good  work 
of  showing  the  romantic  interest  of  common  life ;  and  Words- 
worth  continued  it  in  "Michael,"    "The   Solitary   Reaper," 
"To  a  Highland  Girl,"  "Stepping  Westward,"    The  Excur- 
sion, and  a  score  of  lesser  poems.     Joy  and  sorrow,  not  of 
princes  or  heroes,  but  "in  widest  commonalty  spread,"  are 
his  themes ;  and  the  hidden  purpose  of  many  of  his  poems  is 
to  show  that  the  keynote  of  all  life  is  happiness,  —  not  an 
occasional  thing,  the  result  of  chance  or  circumstance,  but  a 
heroic  thing,  to  be  won,  as  one  would  win  any  other  success, 
by  work  and  patience. 

(4)  To  this  natural  philosophy  of  man  Wordsworth  adds  a 
mystic  element,  the  result  of  his  own  belief  that  in  every 
natural  object  there  is  a  reflection  of  the  living  God.    Nature 
is  everywhere  transfused  and  illumined  by  Spirit ;  man  also 
is  a  reflection  of  the  divine  Spirit ;  and  we  shall  never  under- 
stand the  emotions  roused  by  a  flower  or  a  sunset  until  we 
learn  that  nature  appeals  through  the  eye  of  man  to  his  inner 
spirit.    In  a  word,  nature  must  be  "spiritually  discerned."    In 
"Tintern  Abbey"  the  spiritual  appeal  of  nature  is  expressed 
in  almost  every  line ;  but  the  mystic  conception  of  man  is 
seen  more   clearly  in   "Intimations  of   Immortality,"   which 
Emerson  calls  "the  high-water  mark  of  poetry  in  the  nine- 
teenth century."    In  this  last  splendid  ode  Wordsworth  adds 
to  his  spiritual  interpretation  of  nature  and  man  the  alluring 
doctrine  of  preexistence,  which  has  appealed  so  powerfully  to 
Hindoo  and  Greek  in  turn,  and  which  makes  of  human  life  a 
continuous,  immortal  thing,  without  end  or  beginning. 


386  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Wordsworth's  longer  poems,  since  they  contain  much  that 
is  prosy  and  uninteresting,  may  well  be  left  till  after  we  have 
read  the  odes,  sonnets,  and  short  descriptive  poems 
that  have  made  him  famous.  As  showing  a  certain 
heroic  cast  of  Wordsworth's  mind,  it  is  interesting  to  learn 
that  the  greater  part  of  his  work,  including  The  Prelude  and 
The  Excursion,  was  intended  for  a  place  in  a  single  great 
poem,  to  be  called  The  Recluse,  which  should  treat  of  nature, 
man,  and  society.  The  Prelude,  treating  of  the  growth  of  a 
poet's  mind,  was  to  introduce  the  work.  The  Home  at  Gras- 
mere,  which  is  the  first  book  of  The  Recluse,  was  not  published 
till  1888,  long  after  the  poet's  death.  The  Excursion  (1814) 
is  the  second  book  of  The  Recluse ;  and  the  third  was  never 
completed,  though  Wordsworth  intended  to  include  most  of 
his  shorter  poems  in  this  third  part,  and  so  make  an  immense 
personal  epic  of  a  poet's  life  and  work.  It  is  perhaps  just  as 
well  that  the  work  remained  unfinished.  The  best  of  his  work 
appeared  in  the  Lyrical  Ballads  (1798)  and  in  the  sonnets, 
odes,  and  lyrics  of  the  next  ten  years ;  though  "  The  Duddon 
Sonnets"  (1820),  "To  a  Skylark"  (1825),  and  "Yarrow  Re- 
visited" (1831)  show  that  he  retained  till  past  sixty  much  of 
his  youthful  enthusiasm.  In  his  later  years,  however,  he  per- 
haps wrote  too  much  ;  his  poetry,  like  his  prose,  becomes  dull 
and  unimaginative ;  and  we  miss  the  flashes  of  insight,  the 
tender  memories  of  childhood,  and  the  recurrence  of  noble 
lines  —  each  one  a  poem  —  that  constitutes  the  surprise  and 
the  delight  of  reading  Wordsworth. 

The  outward  shows  of  sky  and  earth, 

Of  hill  and  valley,  he  has  viewed  j 
And  impulses  of  deeper  birth 

Have  come  to  him  in  solitude. 

In  common  things  that  round  us  lie 
Some  random  truths  he  can  impart  — 

The  harvest  of  a  quiet  eye 

That  broods  and  sleeps  on  his  own  heart 


Il 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  387 

SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE  (1772-1834) 

A  grief  without  a  pang,  void,  dark  and  drear, 

A  stifled,  drowsy,  unimpassioned  grief, 
Which  finds  no  natural  outlet,  no  relief, 

In  word,  or  sigh,  or  tear. 


In  the  wonderful  "  Ode  to  Dejection,"  from  which  the 
above  fragment  is  taken,  we  have  a  single  strong  impression 
of  Coleridge's  whole  life,  —  a  sad,  broken,  tragic  life,  in  marked 
contrast  with  the  peaceful  existence  of  his  friend  Wordsworth. 
For  himself,  during  the  greater  part  of  his  life,  the  poet  had 
only  grief  and  remorse  as  his  portion  ;  but  for  everybody  else, 
for  the  audiences  that  were  charmed  by  the  brilliancy  of  his 
literary  lectures,  for  the  friends  who  gathered  about  him  to 
be  inspired  by  his  ideals  and  conversation,  and  for  all  his 
readers  who  found  unending  delight  in  the  little  volume  which 
holds  his  poetry,  he  had  and  still  has  a  cheering  message,  full 
of  beauty  and  hope  and  inspiration.  Such  is  Coleridge,  a  man 
of  grief  who  makes  the  world  glad. 

Life.  In  1772  there  lived  in  Ottery  St.  Mary,  Devonshire,  a  queer 
little  man,  the  Rev.  John  Coleridge,  vicar  of  the  parish  church  and 
master  of  the  local  grammar  school.  In  the  former  capacity  he 
preached  profound  sermons,  quoting  to  open-mouthed  rustics  long 
passages  from  the  Hebrew,  which  he  told  them  was  the  very  tongue 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  In  the  latter  capacity  he  wrote  for  his  boys  a 
new  Latin  grammar,  to  mitigate  some  of  the  difficulties  of  traversing 
that  terrible  jungle  by  means  of  ingenious  bypaths  and  short  cuts. 
For  instance,  when  his  boys  found  the  ablative  a  somewhat  difficult 
case  to  understand,  he  told  them  to  think  of  it  as  the  quale-quare- 
quidditive  case,  which  of  course  makes  its  meaning  perfectly  clear. 
In  both  these  capacities  the  elder  Coleridge  was  a  sincere  man, 
gentle  and  kindly,  whose  memory  was  "  like  a  religion  "  to  his  sons 
and  daughters.  In  that  same  year  was  born  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge, 
the  youngest  of  thirteen  children.  He  was  an  extraordinarily  preco- 
cious child,  who  could  read  at  three  years  of  age,  and  who,  before 
he  was  five,  had  read  the  Bible  and  the  Arabian  Nights,  and  could 
remember  an  astonishing  amount  from  both  books.  From  three  to 


388  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

six  he  attended  a  "  dame  "  school ;  and  from  six  till  nine  (when  his 
father  died  and  left  the  family  destitute)  he  was  in  his.  father's  school, 
learning  the  classics,  reading  an  enormous  quantity  of  English  books, 
avoiding  novels,  and  delighting  in  cumbrous  theological  and  meta- 
physical treatises.  At  ten  he  was  sent  to  the  Charity  School  of 
Christ's  Hospital,  London,  where  he  met  Charles  Lamb,  who  re- 
cords his  impression  of  the  place  and  of  Coleridge  in  one  of  his 
famous  essays.1  Coleridge  seems  to  have  remained  in  this  school 
for  seven  or  eight  years  without  visiting  his  home, — a  poor,  neglected 
boy,  whose  comforts  and  entertainments  were  all  within  himself. 
Just  as,  when  a  little  child,  he  used  to  wander  over  the  fields  with 
a  stick  in  his  hand,  slashing  the  tops  from  weeds  and  thistles, 

and  thinking  himself  to  be  the  mighty 
champion  of  Christendom  against  the 
infidels,  so  now  he  would  lie  on  the 
roof  of  the  school,  forgetting  the  play  of 
his  fellows  and  the  roar  of  the  London 
streets,  watching  the  white  clouds  drift- 
ing over  and  following  them  in  spirit 
into  all  sorts  of  romantic  adventures. 

At  nineteen  this  hopeless  dreamer, 
who  had  read  more  books  than  an 
old  professor,  entered  Cambridge  as 
a  charity  student.  He  remained  for 

SAMUEL  TAYLOR    COLERIDGE     n6arly    threG  yeaiS>  then  ™n   aW^  b?~ 

cause  of  a  trifling  debt  and  enlisted  in 

the  Dragoons,  where  he  served  several  months  before  he  was  discov- 
ered and  brought  back  to  the  university.  He  left  in  1794  without 
taking  his  degree  ;  and  presently  we  find  him  with  the  youthful 
Southey,  —  a  kindred  spirit,  who  had  been  fired  to  wild  enthusiasm 
by  the  French  Revolution,  —  founding  his  famous  Pantisocracy  for 
the  regeneration  of  human  society.  "The  Fall  of  Robespierre,"  a 
poem  composed  by  the  two  enthusiasts,  is  full  of  the  new  revolu- 
tionary spirit.  The  Pantisocracy,  on  the  banks  of  the  Susquehanna, 
was  to  be  an  ideal  community,  in  which  the  citizens  combined  farm- 
ing and  literature  ;  and  work  was  to  be  limited  to  two ,  hours  each 
day.  Moreover,  each  member  of  the  community  was  to  marry 
a  good  woman,  and  take  her  with  him.  The  two  poets  obeyed 
the  latter  injunction  first,  marrying  two  sisters,  and  then  found 

1  See  "  Christ's  Hospital  Five  and  Thirty  Years  Ago,"  in  Essays  of  Elia. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  389 

that  they  had  no  money  to  pay  even  their  traveling  expenses 
to  the  new  Utopia. 

During  all  the  rest  of  his  career  a  tragic  weakness  of  will  takes 
possession  of  Coleridge,  making  it  impossible  for  him,  with  all  his 
genius  and  learning,  to  hold  himself  steadily  to  any  one  work  or 
purpose.  He  studied  in  Germany  ;  worked  as  a  private  secretary, 
till  the  drudgery  wore  upon  his  free  spirit ;  then  he  went  to  Rome 
and  remained  for  two  years,  lost  in  study.  Later  he  started  The 
Friend,  a  paper  devoted  to  truth  and  liberty  ;  lectured  on  poetry 
and  the  fine  arts  to  enraptured  audiences  in  London,  until  his  fre- 
quent failures  to  meet  his  engagements  scattered  his  hearers  ;  was 
offered  an  excellent  position  and  a  half  interest  (amounting  to  some 
^"2000)  in  the  Morning  Post  and  The  Courier,  but  declined  it,  say- 
ing "  that  I  would  not  give  up  the  country  and  the  lazy  reading  of 
old  folios  for  two  thousand  times  two  thousand  pounds,  —  in  short, 
that  beyond  ^350  a  year  I  considered  money  a  real  evil."  His 
family,  meanwhile,  was  almost  entirely  neglected  ;  he  lived  apart, 
following  his  own  way,  and  the  wife  and  children  were  left  in  charge 
of  his  friend  Southey.  Needing  money,  he  was  on  the  point  of  be- 
coming a  Unitarian  minister,  when  a  small  pension  from  two  friends 
enabled  him  to  live  for  a  few  years  without  regular  employment. 

A  terrible  shadow  in  Coleridge's  life  was  the  apparent  cause  of 
most  of  his  dejection.  In  early  life  he  suffered  from  neuralgia,  and 
to  ease  the  pain  began  to  use  opiates.  The  result  on  such  a  tempera- 
ment was  almost  inevitable.  He  became  a  slave  to  the  drug  habit ; 
his  naturally  weak  will  lost  all  its  directing  and  sustaining  force, 
until,  after  fifteen  years  of  pain  and  struggle  and  despair,  he 
gave  up  and  put  himself  in  charge  of  a  physician,  one  Mr.  Gill- 
man,  of  Highgate.  Carlyle,  who  visited  him  at  this  time,  calls  him 
"  a  king  of  men,"  but  records  that  "  he  gave  you  the  idea  of  a  life 
that  had  been  full  of  sufferings,  a  life  heavy-laden,  half- vanquished, 
still  swimming  painfully  in  seas  of  manifold  physical  and  other 
bewilderment." 

The  shadow  is  dark  indeed ;  but  there  are  gleams  of  sunshine 
that  occasionally  break  through  the  clouds.  One  of  these  is  his  asso- 
ciation with  Wordsworth  and  his  sister  Dorothy,  in  the  Quantock 
hills,  out  of  which  came  the  famous  Lyrical  Ballads  of  1798. 
Another  was  his  loyal  devotion  to  poetry  for  its  own  sake.  With  the 
exception  of  his  tragedy  Remorse,  which  through  Byron's  influence 
was  accepted  at  Drury  Lane  Theater,  and  for  which  he  was  paid 


390  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

^400,  he  received  almost  nothing  for  his  poetry.  Indeed,  he  seems 
not  to  have  desired  it ;  for  he  says:  " Poetry  has  been  to  me  its  own 
exceeding  great  reward ;  it  has  soothed  my  afflictions ;  it  has  multi- 
plied and  refined  my  enjoyments ;  it  has  endeared  solitude,  and  it 
has  given  me  the  habit  of  wishing  to  discover  the  good  and  the 
beautiful  in  all  that  meets  and  surrounds  me."  One  can  better  un- 
derstand his  exquisite  verse  after  such  a  declaration.  A  third  ray  of 
sunlight  came  from  the  admiration  of  his  contemporaries ;  for  though 
he  wrote  comparatively  little,  he  was  by  his  talents  and  learning  a 
leader  among  literary  men,  and  his  conversations  were  as  eagerly 
listened  to  as  were  those  of  Dr.  Johnson.  Wordsworth  says  of  him 
that,  though  other  men  of  the  age  had  done  some  wonderful  things, 
Coleridge  was  the  only  wonderful  man  he  had  ever  known.  Of  his 
lectures  on  literature  a  contemporary  says :  "  His  words  seem  to 
flow  as  from  a  person  repeating  with  grace  and  energy  some  delight- 
ful poem."  And  of  his  conversation  it  is  recorded  :  "  Throughout  a 
long-drawn  summer's  day  would  this  man  talk  to  you  in  low,  equable 
but  clear  and  musical  tones,  concerning  things  human  and  divine ; 
marshalling  all  history,  harmonizing  all  experiment,  probing  the 
depths  of  your  consciousness,  and  revealing  visions  of  glory  and 
terror  to  the  imagination." 

The  last  bright  ray  of  sunlight  comes  from  Coleridge's  own  soul, 
from  the  gentle,  kindly  nature  which  made  men  love  and  respect  him 
in  spite  of  his  weaknesses,  and  which  caused  Lamb  to  speak  of  him 
humorously  as  "an  archangel  a  little  damaged."  The  universal  law 
of  suffering  seems  to  be  that  it  refines  and  softens  humanity ;  and 
Coleridge  was  no  exception  to  the  law.  In  his  poetry  we  find  a  note 
of  human  sympathy,  more  tender  and  profound  than  can  be  found 
in  Wordsworth  or,  indeed,  in  any  other  of  the  great  English  poets. 
Even  in  his  later  poems,  when  he  has  lost  his  first  inspiration  and 
something  of  the  splendid  imaginative  power  that  makes  his  work 
equal  to  the  best  of  Blake's,  we  find  a  soul  tender,  triumphant, 
quiet,  "  in  the  stillness  of  a  great  peace."  He  died  in  1834,  and  was 
buried  in  Highgate  Church.  The  last  stanza  of  the  boatman's  song, 
in  Remorse,  serves  better  to  express  the  world's  judgment  than  any 
epitaph : 

Hark  !  the  cadence  dies  away 

On  the  quiet  moon-lit  sea ; 

The  boatmen  rest  their  oars  and  say, 
Miserere  Domini  ! 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  391 

Works  of  Coleridge.  The  works  of  Coleridge  naturally 
divide  themselves  into  three  classes,  —  the  poetic,  the  critical, 
and  the  philosophical,  corresponding  to  the  early,  the  middle, 
and  the  later  periods  of  his  career.  Of  his  poetry  Stopford 
Brooke  well  says :  "  All  that  he  did  excellently  might  be 
bound  up  in  twenty  pages,  but  it  should  be  bound  in  pure 
gold."  His  early  poems  show  the  influence  of  Gray  and  Blake, 
especially  of  the  latter.  When  Coleridge  begins  his  "  Day 
Dream  "  with  the  line,  "  My  eyes  make  pictures  when  they  're 
shut,"  we  recall  instantly  Blake's  haunting  Songs  of  Innocence. 
But  there  is  this  difference  between  the  two  poets,  —  in  Blake 
we  have  only  a  dreamer ;  in  Coleridge  we  have  the  rare  com- 
bination of  the  dreamer  and  the  profound  scholar.  The  qual- 
ity of  this  early  poetry,  with  its  strong  suggestion  of  Blake, 
may  be  seen  in  such  poems  as  "  A  Day  Dream,"  "  The  Devil's 
Thoughts,"  "The  Suicide's  Argument,"  and  "The  Wander- 
ings of  Cain."  His  later  poems,  wherein  we  see  his  imagination 
bridled  by  thought  and  study,  but  still  running  very  freely,  may 
best  be  appreciated  in  "  Kubla  Khan,"  "  Christabel,"  and  "  The 
Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner."  It  is  difficult  to  criticise  such 
poems ;  one  can  only  read  them  and  wonder  at  their  melody, 
and  at  the  vague  suggestions  which  they  conjure  up  in  the  mind. 
"  Kubla  Khan  "  is  a  fragment  painting  a  gorgeous  Oriental 
dream  picture,  such  as  one  might  see  in  an  October  sunset. 
The  whole  poem  came  to  Coleridge  one  morning  when  he  had 
fallen  asleep  over  Purchas,  and  upon  awakening  he  began  to 

write  hastily, 

In  Xanadu  did  Kubla  Khan 

A  stately  pleasure-dome  decree : 
Where  Alph,  the  sacred  river,  ran 
Through  caverns  measureless  to  man 
Down  to  a  sunless  sea. 

He  was  interrupted  after  fifty-four  lines  were  written,  and  he 
never  finished  the  poem. 

"  Christabel  "  is  also  a  fragment,  which  seems  to  have  been 
planned  as  the  story  of  a  pure  young  girl  who  fell  under  the 


392  ENGLISH   LITERATURE 

spell  of  a  sorcerer,  in  the  shape  of  the  woman  Geraldine.  It 
is  full  of  a  strange  melody,  and  contains  many  passages  of 
exquisite  poetry ;  but  it  trembles  with  a  strange,  unknown 
horror,  and  so  suggests  the  supernatural  terrors  of  the  popu- 
lar hysterical  novels,  to  which  we  have  referred.  On  this 
account  it  is  not  wholesome  reading ;  though  one  flies  in  the 
face  of  Swinburne  and  of  other  critics  by  venturing  to  suggest 
such  a  thing. 

"The  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner"  is  Coleridge's  chief 
contribution  to  the  Lyrical  Ballads  of  1 798,  and  is  one  of  the 
The  Rime  of  wor^'s  masterpieces.  Though  it  introduces  the 
the  Ancient  reader  to  a  supernatural  realm,  with  a  phantom 
ship,  a  crew  of  dead  men,  the  overhanging  curse  of 
the  albatross,  the  polar  spirit,  and  the  magic  breeze,  it  never- 
theless manages  to  create  a  sense  of  absolute  reality  concern- 
ing these  manifest  absurdities.  All  the  mechanisms  of  the 
poem,  its  meter,  rime,  and  melody  are  perfect ;  and  some  of 
its  descriptions  of  the  lonely  sea  have  never  been  equaled. 
Perhaps  we  should  say  suggestions,  rather  than  descriptions  ; 
for  Coleridge  never  describes  things,  but  makes  a  suggestion, 
always  brief  and  always  exactly  right,  and  our  own  imagina- 
tion instantly  supplies  the  details.  It  is  useless  to  quote  frag- 
ments ;  one  must  read  the  entire  poem,  if  he  reads  nothing 
else  of  the  romantic  school  of  poetry. 

Among  Coleridge's  shorter  poems  there  is  a  wide  variety, 
and  each  reader  must  be  left  largely  to  follow  his  own  taste. 
The  beginner  will  do  well  to  read  a  few  of  the  early  poems,  to 
which  we  have  referred,  and  then  try  the  "Ode  to  France," 
"  Youth  and  Age,"  "  Dejection,"  "  Love  Poems,"  "  Fears  in 
Solitude,"  "  Religious  Musings,"  "  Work  Without  Hope,"  and 
the  glorious  "  Hymn  Before  Sunrise  in  the  Vale  of  Chamouni." 
One  exquisite  little  poem  from  the  Latin,  "  The  Virgin's  Cradle 
Hymn,"  and  his  version  of  Schiller's  Wallenstein,  show  Cole- 
ridge's remarkable  power  as  a  translator.  The  latter  is  one  of 
the  best  poetical  translations  in  our  literature. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  393 

Of  Coleridge's  prose  works,  the  Biographia  Literaria,  or 
Sketches  of  My  Literary  Life  and  Opinions  (1817),  his  col- 
lected Lectures  on  Shakespeare  (1849),  and.  Aids  to 
Reflection  (1825)  are  the  most  interesting  from  a 
literary  view  point.  The  first  is  an  explanation  and  criticism 
of  Wordsworth's  theory  of  poetry,  and  contains  more  sound 
sense  and  illuminating  ideas  on  the  general  subject  of  poetry 
than  any  other  book  in  our  language.  The  Lectures,  as  re- 
freshing as  a  west  wind  in  midsummer,  are  remarkable  for 
their  attempt  to  sweep  away  the  arbitrary  rules  which  for  two 
centuries  had  stood  in  the  way  of  literary  criticism  of  Shake- 
speare, in  order  to  study  the  works  themselves.  No  finer 
analysis  and  appreciation  of  the  master's  genius  has  ever  been 
written.  In  his  philosophical  work  Coleridge  introduced  the 
idealistic  philosophy  of  Germany  into  England.  He  set  him- 
self in  line  with  Berkeley,  and  squarely  against  Bentham, 
Malthus,  Mill,  and  all  the  materialistic  tendencies  which  were 
and  still  are  the  bane  of  English  philosophy.  The  Aids  to 
Reflection  is  Coleridge's  most  profound  work,  but  is  more 
interesting  to  the  student  of  religion  and  philosophy  than  to 
the  readers  of  literature. 

ROBERT  SOUTHEY  (1774-1843) 

Closely  associated  with  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge  is  Rob- 
ert Southey ;  and  the  three,  on  account  of  their  residence  in 
the  northern  lake  district,  were  referred  to  contemptuously  as 
the  "  Lakers  "  by  the  Scottish  magazine  reviewers.  Southey 
holds  his  place  in  this  group  more  by  personal  association 
than  by  his  literary  gifts.  He  was  born  at  Bristol,  in  1774; 
studied  at  Westminster  School,  and  at  Oxford,  where  he  found 
himself  in  perpetual  conflict  with  the  authorities  on  account 
of  his  independent  views.  He  finally  left  the  university  and 
joined  Coleridge  in  his  scheme  of  a  Pantisocracy.  For  more 
than  fifty  years  he  labored  steadily  at  literature,  refusing  to 


394 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


consider  any  other  occupation.  He  considered  himself  seri- 
ously as  one  of  the  greatest  writers  of  the  day,  and  a  reading 
of  his  ballads  —  which  connected  him  at  once  with  the  ro- 
mantic school  —  leads  us  to  think  that,  had  he  written  less, 
he  might  possibly  have  justified  his  own  opinion  of  himself. 
Unfortunately  he  could  not  wait  for  inspiration,  being  obliged 
to  support  not  only  his  own  family  but  also,  in  large  measure, 
that  of  his  friend  Coleridge. 

Southey  gradually  surrounded  himself  with  one  of  the  most 
extensive  libraries  in  England,  and  set  himself  to  the  task  of 
Works  of  writing  something  every  working  day.  The  results 
Southey  of  his  industry  were  one  hundred  and  nine  volumes, 
besides  some  hundred  and  fifty  articles  for  the  magazines, 
most  of  which  are  now  utterly  forgotten.  His  most  ambitious 

poems  are  Thalaba,  a  tale  of 
Arabian  enchantment  ;  The 
Curse  of  Kekama,  a  medley  of 
Hindoo  mythology  ;  Madoc,  a 
legend  of  a  Welsh  prince  who 
discovered  the  western  world  ; 
and  Roderick,  a  tale  of  the 
last  of  the  Goths.  All  these, 
and  many  more,  although 
containing  some  excellent  pas- 
sages, are  on  the  whole  exag- 
gerated and  unreal,  both  in 
manner  and  in  matter.  Southey 
wrote  far  better  prose  than 
poetry,  and  his  admirable  Life 
of  Nelson  is  still  often  read. 
Besides  these  are  his  Lives  of  British  Admirals,  his  lives  of 
Cowper  and  Wesley,  and  his  histories  of  Brazil  and  of  the 
Peninsular  War. 

Southey  was  made  Poet  Laureate  in  1813,  and  was  the 
first  to  raise  that  office  from  the  low  estate  into  which  it  had 


ROBERT   SOUTHEY 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  395 

fallen  since  the  death  of  Dryden.  The  opening  lines  of 
Thalaba,  beginning, 

How  beautiful  is  night ! 

A  dewy  freshness  fills  the  silent  air, 

are  still  sometimes  quoted  ;  and  a  few  of  his  best  known  short 
poems,  like  "The  Scholar,"  "  Auld  Cloots,"  "The  Well  of  St. 
Keyne,"  "The  Inchcape  Rock,"  and  "  Lodore,"  will  repay  the 
curious  reader.  The  beauty  of  Southey's  character,  his  pa- 
tience and  helpfulness,  make  him  a  worthy  associate  of  the 
two  greater  poets  with  whom  he  is  generally  named. 

WALTER  SCOTT  (1771-1832) 

We  have  already  called  attention  to  two  significant  move- 
ments of  the  eighteenth  century,  which  we  must  for  a  moment 
recall  if  we  are  to  appreciate  Scott,  not  simply  as  a  delightful 
teller  of  tales,  but  as  a  tremendous  force  in  modern  literature. 
The  first  is  the  triumph  of  romantic  poetry  in  Wordsworth 
and  Coleridge ;  the  second  is  the  success  of  our  first  English 
novelists,  and  the  popularization  of  literature  by  taking  it  from 
the  control  of  a  few  patrons  and  critics  and  putting  it  into 
the  hands  of  the  people  as  one  of  the  forces  which  mold 
our  modern  life.  Scott  is  an  epitome  of  both  these  move- 
ments. The  poetry  of  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge  was  read  by 
a  select  few,  but  Scott's  Marmion  and  his  Lady  of  the  Lake 
aroused  a  whole  nation  to  enthusiasm,  and  for  the  first  time 
romantic  poetry  became  really  popular.  So  also  the  novel  had 
been  content  to  paint  men  and  women  of  the  present,  until 
the  wonderful  series  of  Waverley  novels  appeared,  when  sud- 
denly, by  the  magic  of  this  "  Wizard  of  the  North,"  all  history 
seemed  changed.  The  past,  which  had  hitherto  appeared  as 
a  dreary  region  of  dead  heroes,  became  alive  again,  and  filled 
with  a  multitude  of  men  and  women  who  had  the  surprising 
charm  of  reality.  It  is  of  small  consequence  that  Scott's 
poetry  and  prose  are  both  faulty  ;  that  his  poems  are  read 


396  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

chiefly  for  the  story,  rather  than  for  their  poetic  excellence ; 
and  that  much  of  the  evident  crudity  and  barbarism  of  the 
Middle  Ages  is  ignored  or  forgotten  in  Scott's  writings.  By 
their  vigor,  their  freshness,  their  rapid  action,  and  their 
breezy,  out-of-door  atmosphere,  Scott's  novels  attracted  thou- 
sands of  readers  who  else  had  known  nothing  of  the  delights 
of  literature.  He  is,  therefore,  the  greatest  known  factor  in 
establishing  and  in  popularizing  that  romantic  element  in 
prose  and  poetry  which  has  been  for  a  hundred  years  the 
chief  characteristic  of  our  literature. 

Life.  Scott  was  born  in  Edinburgh,  on  August  15,  1771.  On 
both  his  mother's  and  father's  side  he  was  descended  from  old 
Border  families,  distinguished  more  for  their  feuds  and  fighting  than 
for  their  intellectual  attainments.  His  father  was  a  barrister,  a  just 
man,  who  often  lost  clients  by  advising  them  to  be,  first  of  all,  hon- 
est in  their  lawsuits.  His  mother  was  a  woman  of  character  and 
education,  strongly  imaginative,  a  teller  of  tales  which  stirred  young 
Walter's  enthusiasm  by  revealing  the  past  as  a  world  of  living  heroes. 

As  a  child,  Scott  was  lame  and  delicate,  and  was  therefore  sent 
away  from  the  city  to  be  with  his  grandmother  in  the  open  country 
at  Sandy  Knowe,  in  Roxburghshire,  near  the  Tweed.  This  grand- 
mother was  a  perfect  treasure-house  of  legends  concerning  the  old 
Border  feuds.  From  her  wonderful  tales  Scott  developed  that  in- 
tense love  of  Scottish  history  and  tradition  which  characterizes  all 
his  work. 

By  the  time  he  was  eight  years  old,  when  he  returned  to  Edin- 
burgh, Scott's  tastes  were  fixed  for  life.  At  the  high  school  he  was 
a  fair  scholar,  but  without  enthusiasm,  being  more  interested  in 
Border  stories  than  in  the  text-books.  He  remained  at  school  only 
six  or  seven  years,  and  then  entered  his  father's  office  to  study  law, 
at  the  same  time  attending  lectures  at  the  university.  He  kept  this 
up  for  some  six  years  without  developing  any  interest  in  his  profes- 
sion, not  even  when  he  passed  his  examinations  and  was  admitted 
to  the  Bar,  in  1792.  After  nineteen  years  of  desultory  work,  in 
which  he  showed  far  more  zeal  in  gathering  Highland  legends  than 
in  gaining  clients,  he  had  won  two  small  legal  offices  which  gave  him 
enough  income  to  support  him  comfortably.  His  home,  meanwhile, 
was  at  Ashestiel  on  the  Tweed,  where  all  his  best  poetry  was  written. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM 


397 


Scott's  literary  work  began  with  the  translation  from  the  German 
of  Burger's  romantic  ballad  of  Lenore  (1796)  and  of  Goethe's  Gotz 
von  Berlichingen  (1799);  but  there  was  romance  enough  in  his 
own  loved  Highlands,  and  in  1802-1803  appeared  three  volumes 
of  his  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border,  which  he  had  been  collect- 
ing for  many  years.  In  1805,  when  Scott  was  34  years  old,  appeared 
his  first  original  work,  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.  Its  success 
was  immediate,  and  when  Marmion  (1808)  and  The  Lady  of  the 
Lake  (1810)  aroused  Scotland  and  England  to  intense  enthusiasm, 
and  brought  unexpected  fame  to  the  author,  —  without  in  the  least 
spoiling  his  honest  and  lov- 
able nature, — Scott  gladly 
resolved  to  abandon  the 
law,  in  which  he  had  won 
scant  success,  and  give 
himself  wholly  to  literature. 
Unfortunately,  however,  in 
order  to  increase  his  earn- 
ings, he  entered  secretly 
into  partnership  with  the 
firms  of  Constable  and  the 
brothers  Ballantyne,  as 
printer-publishers,  —  a  sad 
mistake,  indeed,  and  the 
cause  of  that  tragedy  which 
closed  the  life  of  Scotland's 
greatest  writer. 

The  year  1 8 1 1  is  remark- 
able for  two  things  in  Scott's 
life.  In  this  year  he  seems  to  have  realized  that,  notwithstanding  the 
success  of  his  poems,  he  had  not  yet  "found  himself  "  ;  that  he  was 
not  a  poetic  genius,  like  Burns  ;  that  in  his  first  three  poems  he  had 
practically  exhausted  his  material,  though  he  still  continued  to  write 
verse  ;  and  that,  if  he  was  to  keep  his  popularity,  he  must  find  some 
other  work.  The  fact  that,  only  a  year  later,  Byron  suddenly  became 
the  popular  favorite,  shows  how  correctly  Scott  had  judged  himself 
and  the  reading  public,  which  was  even  more  fickle  than  usual 
in  this  emotional  age.  In  that  same  year,  1811,  Scott  bought  the 
estate  of  Abbotsford,  on  the  Tweed,  with  which  place  his  name  is  for- 
ever associated.  Here  he  began  to  spend  large  sums,  and  to  dispense 


WALTER   SCOTT 


398  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  generous  hospitality  of  a  Scotch  laird,  of  which  he  had  been 
dreaming  for  years.  In  1820  he  was  made  a  baronet ;  and  his  new 
title  of  Sir  Walter  came  nearer  to  turning  his  honest  head  than  had 
all  his  literary  success.  His  business  partnership  was  kept  secret,  and 
during  all  the  years  when  the  Waverley  novels  were  the  most  popular 
books  in  the  world,  their  authorship  remained  unknown;  for  Scott 
deemed  it  beneath  the  dignity  of  his  title  to  earn  money  by  business 
or  literature,  and  sought  to  give  the  impression  that  the  enormous 
sums  spent  at  Abbotsford  in  improving  the  estate  and  in  entertain- 
ing lavishly  were  part  of  the  dignity  of  the  position  and  came  from 
ancestral  sources. 

It  was  the  success  of  Byron's  Childe  Harold,  and  the  comparative 
failure  of  Scott's  later  poems,  Rokeby,  The  Bridal  of  Triermain,  and 
The  Lord  of  the  Isles,  which  led  our  author  into  the  new  field,  where 
he  was  to  be  without  a  rival.  Rummaging  through  a  cabinet  one  day 
in  search  of  some  fishing  tackle,  Scott  found  the  manuscript  of  a 
story  which  he  had  begun  and  laid  aside  nine  years  before.  He  read 
this  old  story  eagerly,  as  if  it  had  been  another's  work ;  finished 
it  within  three  weeks,  and  published  it  without  signing  his  name. 
The  success  of  this  first  novel,  Waverley  (1814),  was  immediate  and 
unexpected.  Its  great  sales  and  the  general  chorus  of  praise  for  its 
unknown  author  were  without  precedent ;  and  when  Guy  Manner- 
ing,  The  Antiquary,  Black  Dwarf,  Old  Mortality,  Rob  Roy,  and 
The  Heart  of  Midlothian  appeared  within  the  next  four  years,  Eng- 
land's delight  and  wonder  knew  no  bounds.  Not  only  at  home,  but 
also  on  the  Continent,  large  numbers  of  these  fresh  and  fascinating 
stories  were  sold  as  fast  as  they  could  be  printed. 

During  the  seventeen  years  which  followed  the  appearance  of 
Waverley,  Scott  wrote  on  an  average  nearly  two  novels  per  year, 
creating  an  unusual  number  of  characters  and  illustrating  many 
periods  of  Scotch,  English,  and  French  history,  from  the  time  of  the 
Crusades  to  the  fall  of  the  Stuarts.  In  addition  to  these  historical 
novels,  he  wrote  Tales  of  a  Grandfather,  Demonology  and  Witch- 
craft, biographies  of  Dryden  and  of  Swift,  the  Life  of  Napoleon,  in 
nine  volumes,  and  a  large  number  of  articles  for  the  reviews  and 
magazines.  It  was  an  extraordinary  amount  of  literary  work,  but  it 
was  not  quite  so  rapid  and  spontaneous  as  it  seemed.  He  had  been 
very  diligent  in  looking  up  old  records,  and  we  must  remember 
that,  in  nearly  all  his  poems  and  novels,  Scott  was  drawing  upon  a 
fund  of  legend,  tradition,  history,  and  poetry,  which  he  had  been 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM 


399 


gathering  for  forty  years,  and  which  his  memory  enabled  him  to  pro- 
duce at  will  with  almost  the  accuracy  of  an  encyclopedia. 

For  the  first  six  years  Scott  held  himself  to  Scottish  history,  giv- 
ing us  in  nine  remarkable  novels  the  whole  of  Scotland,  its  heroism, 
its  superb  faith  and  enthusiasm,  and  especially  its  clannish  loyalty  to 
its  hereditary  chiefs ;  giving  us  also  all  parties  and  characters,  from 
Covenanters  to  Royalists,  and  from  kings  to  beggars.  After  reading 
these  nine  volumes  we  know  Scotland  and  Scotchmen  as  we  can 
know  them  in  no  other  way.  In  1819  he  turned  abruptly  from 
Scotland,  and  in  Ivanhoe,  the  most  popular  of  his  works,  showed  what 
a  mine  of  neglected  wealth  lay  just  beneath  the  surface  of  English 


ABBOTSFORD 

history.  It  is  hard  to  realize  now,  as  we  read  its  rapid,  melodramatic 
action,  its  vivid  portrayal  of  Saxon  and  Norman  character,  and  all  its 
picturesque  details,  that  it  was  written  rapidly,  at  a  time  when  the 
author  was  suffering  from  disease  and  could  hardly  repress  an  occa- 
sional groan  from  finding  its  way  into  the  rapid  dictation.  It  stands 
to-day  as  the  best  example  of  the  author's  own  theory  that  the  will 
of  a  man  is  enough  to  hold  him  steadily,  against  all  obstacles,  to 
the  task  of  "doing  what  he  has  a  mind  to  do."  Kenilworth,  Nigel, 
Peveril,  and  Woodstock,  all  written  in  the  next  few  years,  show  his 
grasp  of  the  romantic  side  of  English  annals ;  Count Robert 'and  The 
Talisman  show  his  enthusiasm  for  the  heroic  side  of  the  Crusaders' 
nature;  and  Quentin  Durward and  Anne  of  Geierstein  suggest  an- 
other mine  of  romance  which  he  discovered  in  French  history. 


400  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

For  twenty  years  Scott  labored  steadily  at  literature,  with  the 
double  object  of  giving  what  was  in  him,  and  of  earning  large  sums 
to  support  the  lavish  display  which  he  deemed  essential  to  a  laird 
of  Scotland.  In  1826,  while  he  was  blithely  at  work  on  Woodstock, 
the  crash  came.  Not  even  the  vast  earnings  of  all  these  popular 
novels  could  longer  keep  the  wretched  business  of  Ballantyne  on  its 
feet,  and  the  firm  failed,  after  years  of  mismanagement.  Though  a 
silent  partner,  Scott  assumed  full  responsibility,  and  at  fifty-five 
years  of  age,  sick,  suffering,  and  with  all  his  best  work  behind  him, 
he  found  himself  facing  a  debt  of  over  half  a  million  dollars.  The 
firm  could  easily  have  compromised  with  its  creditors ;  but  Scott 
refused  to  hear  of  bankruptcy  laws  under  which  he  could  have  taken 
refuge.  He  assumed  the  entire  debt  as  a  personal  one,  and  set 
resolutely  to  work  to  pay  every  penny.  Times  were  indeed  changed 
in  England  when,  instead  of  a  literary  genius  starving  until  some 
wealthy  patron  gave  him  a  pension,  this  man,  aided  by  his  pen  alone, 
could  confidently  begin  to  earn  that  enormous  amount  of  money. 
And  this  is  one  of  the  unnoticed  results  of  the  popularization  of  lit- 
erature. Without  a  doubt  Scott  would  have  accomplished  the  task, 
had  he  been  granted  only  a  few  years  of  health.  He  still  lived  at 
Abbotsford,  which  he  had  offered  to  his  creditors,  but  which  they 
generously  refused  to  accept ;  and  in  two  years,  by  miscellaneous 
work,  had  paid  some  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  of  his  debt, 
nearly  half  of  this  sum  coming  from  his  Life  of  Napoleon.  A  new 
edition  of  the  Waverley  novels  appeared,  which  was  very  successful 
financially,  and  Scott  had  every  reason  to  hope  that  he  would  soon 
face  the  world  owing  no  man  a  penny,  when  he  suddenly  broke 
under  the  strain.  In  1830  occurred  a  stroke  of  paralysis  from  which 
he  never  fully  recovered ;  though  after  a  little  time  he  was  again  at 
work,  dictating  with  splendid  patience  and  resolution.  He  writes  in 
his  diary  at  this  time  :  "  The  blow  is  a  stunning  one,  I  suppose,  for  I 
scarcely  feel  it.  It  is  singular,  but  it  comes  with  as  little  surprise  as 
if  I  had  a  remedy  ready,  yet  God  knows  I  am  at  sea  in  the  dark, 
and  the  vessel  leaky." 

It  is  good  to  remember  that  governments  are  not  always  ungrate- 
ful, and  to  record  that,  when  it  became  known  that  a  voyage  to 
Italy  might  improve  Scott's  health,  the  British  government  promptly 
placed  a  naval  vessel  at  the  disposal  of  a  man  who  had  led  no 
armies  to  the  slaughter,  but  had  only  given  pleasure  to  multitudes  of 
peaceable  men  and  women  by  his  stories.  He  visited  Malta,  Naples, 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  401 

and  Rome;  but  in  his  heart  he  longed  for  Scotland,  and  turned 
homeward  after  a  few  months  of  exile.  The  river  Tweed,  the  Scotch 
hills,  the  trees  of  Abbotsford,  the  joyous  clamor  of  his  dogs,  brought 
forth  the  first  exclamation  of  delight  which  had  passed  Scott's  lips 
since  he  sailed  away.  He  died  in  September  of  the  same  year,  1832, 
and  was  buried  with  his  ancestors  in  the  old  Dryburgh  Abbey. 

Works  of  Scott.  Scott's  work  is  of  a  kind  which  the  critic 
gladly  passes  over,  leaving  each  reader  to  his  own  joyous  and 
uninstructed  opinion.  From  a  literary  view  point  the  works 
are  faulty  enough,  if  one  is  looking  for  faults ;  but  it  is  well 
to  remember  that  they  were  intended  to  give  delight,  and 
that  they  rarely  fail  of  their  object.  When  one  has  read  the 
stirring  Marmion  or  the  more  enduring  Lady  of  the  Lake, 
felt  the  heroism  of  the  Crusaders  in  The  Talisman,  the  pic- 
turesqueness  of  chivalry  in  Ivanhoe,  the  nobleness  of  soul  of 
a  Scotch  peasant  girl  in  The  Heart  of  Midlothian,  and  the  qual- 
ity of  Scotch  faith  in  Old  Mortality,  then  his  own  opinion  of 
Scott's  genius  will  be  of  more  value  than  all  the  criticisms 
that  have  ever  been  written. 

At  the  outset  we  must  confess  frankly  that  Scott's  poetry 
is  not  artistic,  in  the  highest  sense,  and  that  it  lacks  the 
Scott's  deeply  imaginative  and  suggestive  qualities  which 
Poetry  make  a  poem  the  noblest  and  most  enduring  work 
of  humanity.  We  read  it  now,  not  for  its  poetic  excellence, 
but  for  its  absorbing  story  interest.  Even  so,  it  serves  an 
admirable  purpose.  Marmion  and  The  Lady  of  the  Lake, 
which  are  often  the  first  long  poems  read  by  the  beginner  in 
literature,  almost  invariably  lead  to  a  deeper  interest  in  the 
subject ;  and  many  readers  owe  to  these  poems  an  introduc- 
tion to  the  delights  of  poetry.  They  are  an  excellent  begin- 
ning, therefore,  for  young  readers,  since  they  are  almost  certain 
to  hold  the  attention,  and  to  lead  indirectly  to  an  interest  in 
other  and  better  poems.  Aside  from  this,  Scott's  poetry  is 
marked  by  vigor  and  youthful  abandon  ;  its  interest  lies  in 
its  vivid  pictures,  its  heroic  characters,  and  especially  in  its 


402  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

rapid  action  and  succession  of  adventures,  which  hold  and  de- 
light us  still,  as  they  held  and  delighted  the  first  wondering 
readers.  And  one  finds  here  and  there  terse  descriptions,  or 
snatches  of  song  and  ballad,  like  the  "  Boat  Song  "  and  "  Loch- 
invar,"  which  are  among  the  best  known  in  our  literature. 

In  his  novels  Scott  plainly  wrote  too  rapidly  and  too  much. 
While  a  genius  of  the  first  magnitude,  the  definition  of  genius 
Scott's  as  " tne  infinite  capacity  for  taking  pains  "  hardly 
Novels  belongs  to  him.  For  details  of  life  and  history,  for 

finely  drawn  characters,  and  for  tracing  the  logical  conse- 
quences of  human  action,  he  has  usually  no  inclination.  He 
sketches  a  character  roughly,  plunges  him  into  the  midst  of 
stirring  incidents,  and  the  action  of  the  story  carries  us 
on  breathlessly  to  the  end.  So  his  stories  are  largely  adven- 
ture stones,  at  the  best ;  and  it  is  this  element  of  adventure 
and  glorious  action,  rather  than  the  study  of  character,  which 
makes  Scott  a  perennial  favorite  of  the  young.  The  same  ele- 
ment of  excitement  is  what  causes  mature  readers  to  turn 
from  Scott  to  better  novelists,  who  have  more  power  to  delin- 
eate human  character,  and  to  create,  or  discover,  a  romantic 
interest  in  the  incidents  of  everyday  life  rather  than  in  stir- 
ring adventure.1 

Notwithstanding  these  limitations,  it  is  well  —  especially  in 
these  days,  when  we  hear  that  Scott  is  outgrown  —  to  empha- 
Scott's  Work  size  f°ur  noteworthy  things  that  he  accomplished, 
for  Literature  (i)  He  created  the  historical  novel 2;  and  all  nov- 
elists of  the  last  century  who  draw  upon  history  for  their 
characters  and  events  are  followers  of  Scott  and  acknowledge 
his  mastery. 

(2)  His  novels  are  on  a  vast  scale,  covering  a  very  wide 
range  of  action,  and  are  concerned  with  public  rather  than 

1  See  Scott's  criticism  of  his  own  work,  in  comparison  with  Jane  Austen's,  p.  439. 

2  Scott's  novels  were  not  the  first  to  have  an  historical  basis.    For  thirty  years  pre- 
ceding the  appearance  of  Waverley,  historical  romances  were  popular;  but  it  was  due  to 
Scott's  genius  that  the  historical  novel  became  a  permanent  type  of  literature.   See  Cross, 
The  Development  of  the  English  Novel. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  403 

with  private  interests.  So,  with  the  exception  of  The  Bride  of 
Lammermoor,  the  love  story  in  his  novels  is  generally  pale 
and  feeble  ;  but  the  strife  and  passions  of  big  parties  are  mag- 
nificently portrayed.  A  glance  over  even  the  titles  of  his 
novels  shows  how  the  heroic  side  of  history  for  over  six  hun- 
dred years  finds  expression  in  his  pages  ;  and  all  the  parties 
of  these  six  centuries  —  Crusaders,  Covenanters,  Cavaliers, 
Roundheads,  Papists,  Jews,  Gypsies,  Rebels  —  start  into  life 
again,  and  fight  or  give  a  reason  for  the  faith  that  is  in  them. 
No  other  novelist  in  England,  and  only  Balzac  in  France, 
approaches  Scott  in  the  scope  of  his  narratives. 

(3)  Scott  was  the  first  novelist  in  any  language  to  make 
the  scene  an  essential  element  in  the  action.  He  knew  Scot- 
land, and  loved  it ;  and  there  is  hardly  an  event  in  any  of  his 
Scottish  novels  in  which  we  do  not  breathe  the  very  atmos- 
phere of  the  place,  and  feel  the  presence  of  its  moors  and 
mountains.  The  place,  morever,  is  usually  so  well  chosen  and 
described  that  the  action  seems  almost  to  be  the  result  of 
natural  environment.  Perhaps  the  most  striking  illustration 
of  this  harmony  between  scene  and  incident  is  found  in  Old 
Mortality,  where  Morton  approaches  the  cave  of  the  old  Cove- 
nanter, and  where  the  spiritual  terror  inspired  by  the  fanatic's 
struggle  with  imaginary  fiends  is  paralleled  by  the  physical 
terror  of  a  gulf  and  a  roaring  flood  spanned  by  a  slippery  tree 
trunk.  A  second  illustration  of  the  same  harmony  of  scene 
and  incident  is  found  in  the  meeting  of  the  arms  and  ideals 
of  the  East  and  West,  when  the  two  champions  fight  in  the 
burning  desert,  and  then  eat  bread  together  in  the  cool  shade 
of  the  oasis,  as  described  in  the  opening  chapter  of  The  Talis- 
man. A  third  illustration  is  found  in  that  fascinating  love 
scene,  where  Ivanhoe  lies  wounded,  raging  at  his  helplessness, 
while  the  gentle  Rebecca  alternately  hides  and  reveals  her 
love  as  she  describes  the  terrific  assault  on  the  castle,  which 
goes  on  beneath  her  window.  His  thoughts  are  all  on  the 
fight ;  hers  on  the  man  she  loves ;  and  both  are  natural,  and 


404  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

both  are  exactly  what  we  expect  under  the  circumstances. 
These  are  but  striking  examples  of  the  fact  that,  in  all  his 
work,  Scott  tries  to  preserve  perfect  harmony  between  the 
scene  and  the  action. 

(4)  Scott's  chief  claim  to  greatness  lies  in  the  fact  that  he 
was  the  first  novelist  to  recreate  the  past ;  that  he  changed 
our  whole  conception  of  history  by  making  it  to  be,  not  a 
record  of  dry  facts,  but  a  stage  on  which  living  men  and 
women  played  their  parts.  Carlyle's  criticism  is  here  most 
pertinent :  "  These  historical  novels  have  taught  this  truth 
.  .  .  unknown  to  writers  of  history :  that  the  bygone  ages  of 
the  world  were  actually  filled  by  living  men,  not  by  protocols, 
state  papers,  controversies,  and  abstractions  of  men."  Not 
only  the  pages  of  history,  but  all  the  hills  and  vales  of  his  be- 
loved Scotland  are  filled  with  living  characters,  —  lords  and 
ladies,  soldiers,  pirates,  gypsies,  preachers,  schoolmasters, 
clansmen,  bailiffs,  dependents,  —  all  Scotland  is  here  before 
our  eyes,  in  the  reality  of  life  itself.  It  is  astonishing,  with 
his  large  numbers  of  characters,  that  Scott  never  repeats  him- 
self. Naturally  he  is  most  at  home  in  Scotland,  and  with 
humble  people.  Scott's  own  romantic  interest  in  feudalism 
caused  him  to  make  his  lords  altogether  too  lordly ;  his  aris- 
tocratic maidens  are  usually  bloodless,  conventional,  exasper- 
ating creatures,  who  talk  like  books  and  pose  like  figures  in 
an  old  tapestry.  But  when  he  describes  characters  like  Jeanie 
Deans,  in  The  Heart  of  Midlothian,  and  the  old  clansman, 
Evan  Dhu,  in  Waverley,  we  know  the  very  soul  of  Scotch 
womanhood  and  manhood. 

Perhaps  one  thing  more  should  be  said,  or  rather  repeated, 
of  Scott's  enduring  work.  He  is  always  sane,  wholesome, 
manly,  inspiring.  We  know  the  essential  nobility  of  human 
life  better,  and  we  are  better  men  and  women  ourselves, 
because  of  what  he  has  written. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  405 

GEORGE  GORDON,  LORD  BYRON  (1788-1824) 

There  are  two  distinct  sides  to  Byron  and  his  poetry,  one 
good,  the  other  bad  ;  and  those  who  write  about  him  generally 
describe  one  side  or  the  other  in  superlatives.  Thus  one  critic 
speaks  of  his  "  splendid  and  imperishable  excellence  of  sincerity 
and  strength";  another  of  his  "gaudy  charlatanry,  blare  of 
brass,  and  big  bow-wowishness."  As  both  critics  are  funda- 
mentally right,  we  shall  not  here  attempt  to  reconcile  their 
differences,  which  arise  from  viewing  one  side  of  the  man's 
nature  and  poetry  to  the  exclusion  of  the  other.  Before  his 
exile  from  England,  in  1816,  the  general  impression  made  by 
Byron  is  that  of  a  man  who  leads  an  irregular  life,  poses  as  a 
romantic  hero,  makes  himself  out  much  worse  than  he  really 
is,  and  takes  delight  in  shocking  not  only  the  conventions  but 
the  ideals  of  English  society.  His  poetry  of  this  first  period 
is  generally,  though  not  always,  shallow  and  insincere  in 
thought,  and  declamatory  or  bombastic  in  expression.  After 
his  exile,  and  his  meeting  with  Shelley  in  Italy,  we  note  a 
gradual  improvement,  due  partly  to  Shelley's  influence  and 
partly  to  his  own  mature  thought  and  experience.  We  have 
the  impression  now  of  a  disillusioned  man  who  recognizes  his 
true  character,  and  who,  though  cynical  and  pessimistic,  is  at 
least  honest  in  his  unhappy  outlook  on  society.  His  poetry 
of  this  period  is  generally  less  shallow  and  rhetorical,  and 
though  he  still  parades  his  feelings  in  public,  he  often  sur- 
prises us  by  being  manly  and  sincere.  Thus  in  the  third  canto 
of  Childe  Harold,  written  just  after  his  exile,  he  says : 

In  my  youth's  summer  I  did  sing  of  one, 
The  wandering  outlaw  of  his  own  dark  mind ; 

and  as  we  read  on  to  the  end  of  the  splendid  fourth  canto  — 
with  its  poetic  feeling  for  nature,  and  its  stirring  rhythm  that 
grips  and  holds  the  reader  like  martial  music  —  we  lay  down 
the  book  with  profound  regret  that  this  gifted  man  should 


406  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

have  devoted  so  much  of  his  talent  to  describing  trivial  or 
unwholesome  intrigues  and  posing  as  the  hero  of  his  own 
verseaj,  The  real  tragedy  of  Byron's  life  is  that  he  died  just 
as  he  was  beginning  to  find  himself. 

Life.  Byron  was  born  in  London  in  1788,  the  year  preceding  the 
French  Revolution.  We  shall  understand  him  better,  and  judge 
him  more  charitably,  if  we  remember  the  tainted  stock  from  which 
he  sprang.  His  father  was  a  dissipated  spendthrift  of  unspeakable 
morals ;  his  mother  was  a  Scotch  heiress,  passionate  and  unbalanced. 
The  father  deserted  his  wife  after  squandering  her  fortune  ;  and  the 
boy  was  brought  up  by  the  mother  who  "alternately  petted  and 
abused  "  him.  In  his  eleventh  year  the  death  of  a  granduncle  left 
him  heir  to  Newstead  Abbey  and  to  the  baronial  title  of  one  of  the 
oldest  houses  in  England.  He  was  singularly  handsome;  and  a 
lameness  resulting  from  a  deformed  foot  lent  a  suggestion  of  pathos 
to  his  make-up.  All  this,  with  his  social  position,  his  pseudo-heroic 
poetry,  and  his  dissipated  life,  —  over  which  he  contrived  to  throw 
a  veil  of  romantic  secrecy,  —  made  him  a  magnet  of  attraction  to 
many  thoughtless  young  men  and  foolish  women,  who  made  the 
downhill  path  both  easy  and  rapid  to  one  whose  inclinations  led  him 
in  that  direction.  Naturally  he  was  generous,  and  easily  led  by 
affection.  He  is,  therefore,  largely  a  victim  of  his  own  weakness 
and  of  unfortunate  surroundings. 

At  school  at  Harrow,  and  in  the  university  at  Cambridge,  Byron 
led  an  unbalanced  life,  and  was  more  given  to  certain  sports  from 
which  he  was  not  debarred  by  lameness,  than  to  books  and  study. 
His  school  life,  like  his  infancy,  is  sadly  marked  by  vanity,  violence, 
and  rebellion  against  every  form  of  authority ;  yet  it  was  not  with- 
out its  hours  of  nobility  and  generosity.  Scott  describes  him  as  "  a 
man  of  real  goodness  of  heart,  and  the  kindest  and  best  feelings, 
miserably  thrown  away  by  his  foolish  contempt  of  public  opinion." 
While  at  Cambridge,  Byron  published  his  first  volume  of  poems, 
Hours  of  Idleness,  in  1807.  A  severe  criticism  of  the  volume  in  the 
Edinburgh  Review  wounded  Byron's  vanity,  and  threw  him  into  a 
violent  passion,  the  result  of  which  was  the  now  famous  satire  called 
English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers,  in  which  not  only  his  enemies, 
but  also  Scott,  Wordsworth,  and  nearly  all  the  literary  men  of  his 
day,  were  satirized  in  heroic  couplets  after  the  manner  of  Pope's 
Dunciad.  It  is  only  just  to  say  that  he  afterwards  made  friends  with 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  407 

Scott  and  with  others  whom  he  had  abused  without  provocation ; 
and  it  is  interesting  to  note,  in  view  of  his  own  romantic  poetry,  that 
he  denounced  all  masters  of  romance  and  accepted  the  artificial 
standards  of  Pope  and  Dryden.  His  two  favorite  books  were  the  Old 
Testament  and  a  volume  of  Pope's  poetry.  Of  the  latter  he  says, 
"  His  is  the  greatest  name  in  poetry  ...  all  the  rest  are  barbarians." 

In  1809  Byron,  when  only  twenty-one  years  of  age,  started  on  a 
tour  of  Europe  and  the  Orient.  The  poetic  results  of  this  trip  were 
the  first  two  cantos  of  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage,  with  their  famous 
descriptions  of  romantic  scenery.  The  work  made  him  instantly 
popular,  and  his  fame  overshadowed  Scott's  completely.  As  he  says 
himself,  "  I  awoke  one  morn- 
ing to  find  myself  famous,"  and 
presently  he  styles  himself  "  the 
grand  Napoleon  of  the  realms 
of  rhyme."  The  worst  element 
in  Byron  at  this  time  was  his 
insincerity,  his  continual  pos- 
ing as  the  hero  of  his  poetry. 
His  best  works  were  translated, 
and  his  fame  spread  almost  as 
rapidly  on  the  Continent  as 
in  England.  Even  Goethe  was 
deceived,  and  declared  that  a 
man  so  wonderful  in  character 
had  never  before  appeared  in 
literature,  and  would  never  ap-  GEORGE  GORDON,  LORD  BYRON 
pear  again.  Now  that  the  tinsel 

has  worn  off,  and  we  can  judge  the  man  and  his  work  dispassion- 
ately, we  see  how  easily  even  the  critics  of  the  age  were  governed  by 
romantic  impulses. 

The  adulation  of  Byron  lasted  only  a  few  years  in  England.  In 
1815  he  married  Miss  Milbanke,  an  English  heiress,  who  abruptly 
left  him  a  year  later.  With  womanly  reserve  she  kept  silence ;  but 
the  public  was  not  slow  to  imagine  plenty  of  reasons  for  the  separa- 
tion. This,  together  with  the  fact  that  men  had  begun  to  penetrate 
the  veil  of  romantic  secrecy  with  which  Byron  surrounded  himself 
and  found  a  rather  brassy  idol  beneath,  turned  the  tide  of  public 
opinion  against  him.  He  left  England  under  a  cloud  of  distrust  and 
disappointment,  in  1816,  and  never  returned.  Eight  years  were 


408  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

spent  abroad,  largely  in  Italy,  where  he  was  associated  with  Shelley 
until  the  latter 's  tragic  death  in  1822.  His  house  was  ever  the 
meeting  place  for  Revolutionists  and  malcontents  calling  themselves 
patriots,  whom  he  trusted  too  greatly,  and  with  whom  he  shared  his 
money  most  generously.  Curiously  enough,  while  he  trusted  men 
too  easily,  he  had  no  faith  in  human  society  or  government,  and 
wrote  in  1817:  "I  have  simplified  my  politics  to  an  utter  detesta- 
tion of  all  existing  governments."  During  his  exile  he  finished 
Childe  Harold,  The  Prisoner  of  Chillon,  his  dramas  Cain  and  Man- 
fred, and  numerous  other  works,  in  some  of  which,  as  in  Don  Juan, 
he  delighted  in  revenging  himself  upon  his  countrymen  by  holding 
up  to  ridicule  all  that  they  held  most  sacred. 

In  1824  Byron  went  to  Greece,  to  give  himself  and  a  large  part 
of  his  fortune  to  help  that  country  in  its  struggle  for  liberty  against 
the  Turks.  How  far  he  was  led  by  his  desire  for  posing  as  a  hero, 
and  how  far  by  a  certain  vigorous  Viking  spirit  that  was  certainly  in 
him,  will  never  be  known.  The  Greeks  welcomed  him  and  made 
him  a  leader,  and  for  a  few  months  he  found  himself  in  the  midst 
of  a  wretched  squabble  of  lies,  selfishness,  insincerity,  cowardice, 
and  intrigue,  instead  of  the  heroic  struggle  for  liberty  which  he  had 
anticipated.  He  died  of  fever,  in  Missolonghi,  in  1824.  One  of  his 
last  poems,  written  there  on  his  thirty-sixth  birthday,  a  few  months 
before  he  died,  expresses  his  own  view  of  his  disappointing  life  : 

My  days  are  in  the  yellow  leaf, 
The  flowers  and  fruits  of  love  are  gone  : 
The  worm,  the  canker,  and  the  grief 
Are  mine  alone. 

Works  of  Byron.  In  reading  Byron  it  is  well  to  remember 
that  be  was  a  disappointed  and  embittered  man,  not  only  in 
his  personal  life,  but  also  in  his  expectation  of  a  general  trans- 
formation of  human  society.  As  he  pours  out  his  own  feelings, 
chiefly,  in  his  poetry,  he  is  the  most  expressive  writer  of  his 
age  in  voicing  the  discontent  of  a  multitude  of  Europeans  who 
were  disappointed  at  the  failure  of  the  French  Revolution  to 
produce  an  entirely  new  form  of  government  and  society. 

One  who  wishes  to  understand  the  whole  scope  of  Byron's 
genius  and  poetry  will  do  well  to  begin  with  his  first  work, 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  409 

Hours  of  Idleness,  written  when  he  was  a  young  man  at  the 
university.  There  is  very  little  poetry  in  the  volume,  only  a 
Hours  of  striking  facility  in  rime,  brightened  by  the  devil- 
idleness  may-care  spirit  of  the  Cavalier  poets  ;  but  as  a  reve- 
lation of  the  man  himself  it  is  remarkable.  In  a  vain  and 
sophomoric  preface  he  declares  that  poetry  is  to  him  an  idle 
experiment,  and  that  this  is  his  first  and  last  attempt  to 
amuse  himself  in  that  line.  Curiously  enough,  as  he  starts  for 
Greece  on  his  last,  fatal  journey,  he  again  ridicules  literature, 
and  says  that  the  poet  is  a  "mere  babbler."  It  is  this  despis- 
ing of  the  art  which  alone  makes  him  famous  that  occasions 
our  deepest  disappointment.  Even  in  his  magnificent  pas- 
sages, in  a  glowing  description  of  nature  or  of  a  Hindoo  wom- 
an's exquisite  love,  his  work  is  frequently  marred  by  a  wretched 
pun,  or  by  some  cheap  buffoonery,  which  ruins  our  first  splen- 
did impression  of  his  poetry. 

Byron's  later  volumes,  Manfred  and  Cain,  the  one  a  curi- 
ous, and  perhaps  unconscious,  parody  of  Faust,  the  other  of 

Paradise  Lost,  are  his  two  best  known  dramatic 
Longer  Poems  . 

works.  Aside  from  the  question  of  their  poetic 
value,  they  are  interesting  as  voicing  Byron's  excessive  indi- 
vidualism and  his  rebellion  against  society.  The  best  known 
and  the  most  readable  of  Byron's  works  are  Mazeppa,  The 
Prisoner  of  Chilian,  and  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage.  The 
first  two  cantos  of  Childe  Harold  (1812)  are  perhaps  more 
frequently  read  than  any  other  work  of  the  same  author, 
partly  because  of  their  melodious  verse,  partly  because  of  their 
descriptions  of  places  along  the  lines  of  European  travel ; 
but  the  last  two  cantos  (1816-1818)  written  after  his  exile 
from  England,  have  more  sincerity,  and  are  in  every  way  bet- 
ter expressions  of  Byron's  mature  genius.  Scattered  through 
all  his  works  one  finds  magnificent  descriptions  of  natural 
scenery,  and  exquisite  lyrics  of  love  and  despair  ;  but  they 
are  mixed  with  such  a  deal  of  bombast  and  rhetoric,  to- 
gether with  much  that  is  unwholesome,  that  the  beginner 


410  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

will  do  well  to  confine  himself  to  a  small  volume  of  well- 
chosen  selections.1 

Byron  is  often  compared  with  Scott,  as  having  given  to 
us  Europe  and  the  Orient,  just  as  Scott  gave  us  Scotland 
and  its  people ;  but  while  there  is  a  certain  resemblance  in 
the  swing  and  dash  of  the  verses,  the  resemblance  is  all  on 
the  surface,  and  the  underlying  difference  between  the  two 
poets  is  as  great  as  that  between  Thackeray  and  Bulwer-Lytton. 
Scott  knew  his  country  well,  —  its  hills  and  valleys  which  are 
interesting  as  the  abode  of  living  and  lovable  men  and  women. 
Byron  pretended  to  know  the  secret,  unwholesome  side  of 
Europe,  which  generally  hides  itself  in  the  dark ;  but  instead 
of  giving  us  a  variety  of  living  men,  he  never  gets  away  from 
his  own  unbalanced  and  egotistical  self.  All  his  characters, 
in  Cain,  Manfred,  The  Corsair,  The  Giaour,  Childe  Harold, 
Don  Juan,  are  tiresome  repetitions  of  himself,  —  a  vain,  dis- 
appointed, cynical  man,  who  finds  no  good  in  life  or  love  or 
anything.  Naturally,  with  such  a  disposition,  he  is  entirely 
incapable  of  portraying  a  true  woman.  To  nature  alone, 
especially  in  her  magnificent  moods,  Byron  remains  faithful ; 
and  his  portrayal  of  the  night  and  the  storm  and  the  ocean 
in  Childe  Harold  are  unsurpassed  in  our  language. 

PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY  (1792-1822) 

Make  me  thy  lyre,  even  as  the  forest  is : 
What  if  my  leaves  are  falling  like  its  own ! 

The  tumult  of  thy  mighty  harmonies 

Will  take  from  both  a  deep,  autumnal  tone, 

Sweet  though  in  sadness.    Be  thou,  spirit  fierce, 
My  spirit !    Be  thou  me,  impetuous  one  ! 

In  this  fragment,  from  the  "  Ode  to  the  West  Wind,"  we 
have  a  suggestion  of  Shelley's  own  spirit,  as  reflected  in  all 
his  poetry.  The  very  spirit  of  nature,  which  appeals  to  us  in 
the  wind  and  the  cloud,  the  sunset  and  the  moonrise,  seems 

1  See  Selections  for  Reading,  and  Bibliography,  at  the  end  of  this  chapter. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM 


411 


to  have  possessed  him,  at  times,  and  made  him  a  chosen  in- 
strument of  melody.  At  such  times  he  is  a  true  poet,  and  his 
work  is  unrivaled.  At  other  times,  unfortunately,  Shelley 
joins  with  Byron  in  voicing  a  vain  rebellion  against  society. 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 


His  poetry,  like  his  life,  divides  itself  into  two  distinct  moods. 
In  one  he  is  the  violent  reformer,  seeking  to  overthrow  our 
present  institutions  and  to  hurry  the  millennium  out  of  its  slow 
walk  into  a  gallop.  Out  of  this  mood  come  most  of  his  longer 
poems,  like  Queen  Mab,  Revolt  of  Islam,  Hellas,  and  The 


412  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Witch  of  Atlas,  which  are  somewhat  violent  diatribes  against 
government,  priests,  marriage,  religion,  even  God  as  men 
supposed  him  to  be.  In  a  different  mood,  which  finds  ex- 
pression in  Alastor,  Adonaisy  and  his  wonderful  lyrics,  Shelley 
is  like  a  wanderer  following  a  vague,  beautiful  vision,  forever 
sad  and  forever  unsatisfied.  In  the  latter  mood  he  appeals 
profoundly  to  all  men  who  have  known  what  it  is  to  follow 
after  an  unattainable  ideal. 

Shelley's  Life.  There  are  three  classes  of  men  who  see  visions, 
and  all  three  are  represented  in  our  literature.  The  first  is  the  mere 
dreamer,  like  Blake,  who  stumbles  through  a  world  of  reality  without 
noticing  it,  and  is  happy  in  his  visions.  The  second  is  the  seer,  the 
prophet,  like  Langland,  or  Wyclif,  who  sees  a  vision  and  quietly 
goes  to  work,  in  ways  that  men  understand,  to  make  the  present 
world  a  little  more  like  the  ideal  one  which  he  sees  in  his  vision. 
The  third,  who  appears  in  many  forms,  —  as  visionary,  enthusiast, 
radical,  anarchist,  revolutionary,  call  him  what  you  will,  —  sees  a 
vision  and  straightway  begins  to  tear  down  all  human  institutions, 
which  have  been  built  up  by  the  slow  toil  of  centuries,  simply  be- 
cause they  seem  to  stand  in  the  way  of  his  dream.  To  the  latter 
class  belongs  Shelley,  a  man  perpetually  at  war  with  the  present 
world,  a  martyr  and  exile,  simply  because  of  his  inability  to  sympa- 
thize with  men  and  society  as  they  are,  and  because  of  his  own  mis- 
taken judgment  as  to  the  value  and  purpose  of  a  vision. 

Shelley  was  born  in  Field  Place,  near  Horsham,  Sussex,  in  1792. 
On  both  his  father's  and  his  mother's  side  he  was  descended  from 
noble  old  families,  famous  in  the  political  and  literary  history  of 
England.  From  childhood  he  lived,  like  Blake,  in  a  world  of  fancy, 
so  real  that  certain  imaginary  dragons  and  headless  creatures  of  the 
neighboring  wood  kept  him  and  his  sisters  in  a  state  of  fearful  ex- 
pectancy. He  learned  rapidly,  absorbed  the  classics  as  if  by  intui- 
tion, and,  dissatisfied  with  ordinary  processes  of  learning,  seems  to 
have  sought,  like  Faustus,  the  acquaintance  of  spirits,  as  shown  in  his 
"  Hymn  to  Intellectual  Beauty  " : 

While  yet  a  boy,  I  sought  for  ghosts,  and  sped 

Through  many  a  listening  chamber,  cave  and  ruin, 
And  starlight  wood,  with  fearful  steps  pursuing 

Hopes  of  high  talk  with  the  departed  dead. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  413 

Shelley's  first  public  school,  kept  by  a  hard-headed  Scotch  master, 
with  its  floggings  and  its  general  brutality,  seemed  to  him  like  a  com- 
bination of  hell  and  prison ;  and  his  active  rebellion  against  existing 
institutions  was  well  under  way  when,  at  twelve  years  of  age,  he 
entered  the  famous  preparatory  school  at  Eton.  He  was  a  delicate, 
nervous,  marvelously  sensitive  boy,  of  great  physical  beauty;  and, 
like  Cowper,  he  suffered  torments  at  the  hands  of  his  rough  school- 
fellows. Unlike  Cowper,  he  was  positive,  resentful,  and  brave  to  the 
point  of  rashness ;  soul  and  body  rose  up  against  tyranny ;  and  he 
promptly  organized  a  rebellion  against  the  brutal  fagging  system. 
"  Mad  Shelley  "  the  boys  called  him,  and  they  chivied  him  like  dogs 
around  a  little  coon  that  fights  and  cries  defiance  to  the  end.  One 
finds  what  he  seeks  in  this  world,  and  it  is  not  strange  that  Shelley, 
after  his  Eton  experiences,  found  causes  for  rebellion  in  all  existing 
forms  of  human  society,  and  that  he  left  school  "  to  war  among  man- 
kind," as  he  says  of  himself  in  the  Revolt  of  Islam.  His  university 
days  are  but  a  repetition  of  his  earlier  experiences.  While  a  student 
at  Oxford  he  read  some  scraps  of  Hume's  philosophy,  and  immedi- 
ately published  a  pamphlet  called  "  The  Necessity  of  Atheism."  It 
was  a  crude,  foolish  piece  of  work,  and  Shelley  distributed  it  by  post 
to  every  one  to  whom  it  might  give  offense.  Naturally  this  brought 
on  a  conflict  with  the  authorities,  but  Shelley  would  not  listen  to 
reason  or  make  any  explanation,  and  was  expelled  from  the  univer- 
sity in  1811. 

Shelley's  marriage  was  even  more  unfortunate.  While  living  in 
London,  on  a  generous  sister's  pocket  money,  a  certain  young  school- 
girl, Harriet  Westbrook,  was  attracted  by  Shelley's  crude  revolution- 
ary doctrines.  She  promptly  left  school,  as  her  own  personal  part  in 
the  general  rebellion,  and  refused  to  return  or  even  to  listen  to  her 
parents  upon  the  subject.  Having  been  taught  by  Shelley,  she  threw 
herself  upon  his  protection ;  and  this  unbalanced  couple  were  pres- 
ently married,  as  they  said,  "  in  deference  to  anarch  custom."  The 
two  infants  had  already  proclaimed  a  rebellion  against  the  institution 
of  marriage,  for  which  they  proposed  to  substitute  the  doctrine  of 
elective  affinity.  For  two  years  they  wandered  about  England,  Ire- 
land, and  Wales,  living  on  a  small  allowance  from  Shelley's  father, 
who  had  disinherited  his  son  because  of  his  ill-considered  marriage. 
The  pair  soon  separated,  and  two  years  later  Shelley,  having  formed 
a  strong  friendship  with  one  Godwin,  —  a  leader  of  young  enthusiasts 
and  a  preacher  of  anarchy, — presently  showed  his  belief  in  Godwin's 


414  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

theories  by  eloping  with  his  daughter  Mary.  It  is  a  sad  story,  and  the 
details  were  perhaps  better  forgotten.  We  should  remember  that  in 
Shelley  we  are  dealing  with  a  tragic  blend  of  high-mindedness  and 
light-headedness.  Byron  wrote  of  him,  "  The  most  gentle,  the  most 
amiable,  and  the  least  worldly-minded  person  I  ever  met ! " 

Led  partly  by  the  general  hostility  against  him,  and  partly  by  his 
own  delicate  health,  Shelley  went  to  Italy  in  1818,  and  never  re- 
turned to  England.  After  wandering  over  Italy  he  finally  settled  in 
Pisa,  beloved  of  so  many  English  poets,  —  beautiful,  sleepy  Pisa, 
where  one  looks  out  of  his  window  on  the  main  street  at  the  busiest 
hour  of  the  day,  and  the  only  living  thing  in  sight  is  a  donkey,  doz- 
ing lazily,  with  his  head  in  the  shade  and  his  body  in  the  sunshine. 
Here  his  best  poetry  was  written,  and  here  he  found  comfort  in  the 
friendship  of  Byron,  Hunt,  and  Trelawney,  who  are  forever  associ- 
ated with  Shelley's  Italian  life.  He  still  remained  hostile  to  English 
social  institutions ;  but  life  is  a  good  teacher,  and  that  Shelley  dimly 
recognized  the  error  of  his  rebellion  is  shown  in  the  increasing  sad- 
ness of  his  later  poems  : 

O  world,  O  life,  O  time  ! 

On  whose  last  steps  I  climb,  , 

Trembling  at  that  where  I  had  stood  before  ; 
When  will  return  the  glory  of  your  prime  ? 

No  more  —  oh,  never  more  ! 

Out  of  the  day  and  night 
A  joy  has  taken  flight ; 

Fresh  spring,  and  summer,  and  winter  hoar, 
Move  my  faint  heart  with  grief,  but  with  delight 

No  more  — oh,  never  more  ! 

In  1822,  when  only  thirty  years  of  age,  Shelley  was  drowned 
while  sailing  in  a  small  boat  off  the  Italian  coast.  His  body  was 
washed  ashore  several  days  later,  and  was  cremated,  near  Viareggio, 
by  his  friends,  Byron,  Hunt,  and  Trelawney.  His  ashes  might,  with 
all  reverence,  have  been  given  to  the  winds  that  he  loved  and  that 
were  a  symbol  of  his  restless  spirit;  instead,  they  found  a  resting 
place  near  the  grave  of  Keats,  in  the  English  cemetery  at  Rome. 
One  rarely  visits  the  spot  now  without  finding  English  and  American 
visitors  standing  in  silence  before  the  significant  inscription,  Cor 
Cordium. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  415 

Works  of  Shelley.  As  a  lyric  poet,  Shelley  is  one  of  the 
supreme  geniuses  of  our  literature ;  and  the  reader  will  do 
well  to  begin  with  the  poems  which  show  him  at  his  very 
best.  "The  Cloud/'  "To  a  Skylark,"  "Ode  to  the  West 
Wind,"  "To  Night,"  —  poems  like  these  must  surely  set  the 
reader  to  searching  among  Shelley's  miscellaneous  works,  to 
find  for  himself  the  things  "worthy  to  be  remembered." 

In  reading  Shelley's  longer  poems  one  must  remember 
that  there  are  in  this  poet  two  distinct  men  :  one,  the  wan- 
derer, seeking  ideal  beauty  and  forever  unsatisfied  j 
the  other,  the  unbalanced  reformer,  seeking  the 
overthrow  of  present  institutions  and  the  establishment  of 
universal  happiness.  Alastor,  or  the  Spirit  of  Solitude  (1816) 
is  by  far  the  best  expression  of  Shelley's  greater  mood.  Here 
we  see  him  wandering  restlessly  through  the  vast  silences  of 
nature,  in  search  of  a  loved  dream-maiden  who  shall  satisfy 
his  love  of  beauty.  Here  Shelley  is  the  poet  of  the  moonrise, 
and  of  the  tender  exquisite  fancies  that  can  never  be  expressed. 
The  charm  of  the  poem  lies  in  its  succession  of  dreamlike 
pictures  ;  but  it  gives  absolutely  no  impressions  of  reality.  It 
was  written  when  Shelley,  after  his  long  struggle,  had  begun 
to  realize  that  the  world  was  too  strong  for  him.  Alastor  is 
therefore  the  poet's  confession,  not  simply  of  failure,  but  of 
undying  hope  in  some  better  thing  that  is  to  come. 

Prometheus  Unbound  (1818-1820),  a  lyrical  drama,  is  the 

best  work   of    Shelley's   revolutionary  enthusiasm,  and   the 

most   characteristic   of   all  his  poems.     Shelley's 

Prometheus        .......  r  * 

philosophy  (if  one  may  dignify  a  hopeless  dream 
by  such  a  name)  was  a  curious  aftergrowth  of  the  French 
Revolution,  namely,  that  it  is  only  the  existing  tyranny  of 
State,  Church,  and  society  which  keeps  man  from  growth  into 
perfect  happiness.  Naturally  Shelley  forgot,  like  many  other 
enthusiasts,  that  Church  and  State  and  social  laws  were  not 
imposed  upon  man  from  without,  but  were  created  by  himself 
to  minister  to  his  necessities.  In  Shelley's  poem  the  hero, 


416  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Prometheus,  represents  mankind  itself,  —  a  just  and  noble 
humanity,  chained  and  tortured  by  Jove,  who  is  here  the  per- 
sonification of  human  institutions.1  In  due  time  Demogorgon 
(which  is  Shelley's  name  for  Necessity)  overthrows  the  tyrant 
Jove  and  releases  Prometheus  (Mankind),  who  is  presently 
united  to  Asia,  the  spirit  of  love  and  goodness  in  nature, 
while  the  earth  and  the  moon  join  in  a  wedding  song,  and 
everything  gives  promise  that  they  shall  live  together  happy 
ever  afterwards. 

Shelley  here  looks  forward,  not  back,  to  the  Golden  Age, 
and  is  the  prophet  of  science  and  evolution.  If  we  compare 
his  Titan  with  similar  characters  in  Faust  and  Cain,  we  shall 
find  this  interesting  difference, — that  while  Goethe's  Titan 
is  cultured  and  self-reliant,  and  Byron's  stoic  and  hopeless, 
Shelley's  hero  is  patient  under  torture,  seeing  help  and  hope 
beyond  his  suffering.  And  he  marries  Love  that  the  earth 
may  be  peopled  with  superior  beings  who  shall  substitute 
brotherly  love 'for  the  present  laws  and  conventions  of  society. 
Such  is  his  philosophy ;  but  the  beginner  will  read  this  poem, 
not  chiefly  for  its  thought,  but  for  its  youthful  enthusiasm,  for 
its  marvelous  imagery,  and  especially  for  its  ethereal  music. 
Perhaps  we  should  add  here  that  Prometheus  is,  and  probably 
always  will  be,  a  poem  for  the  chosen  few  who  can  appreciate 
its  peculiar  spiritlike  beauty.  In  its  purely  pagan  conception 
of  the  world,  it  suggests,  by  contrast,  Milton's  Christian  phil- 
osophy in  Paradise  Regained. 

Shelley's  revolutionary  works,  Queen  Mab  (1813),  The 
Revolt  of  Islam  (1818),  Hellas  (1821),  and  The  Witch  of 
Atlas  (1820),  are  to  be  judged  in  much  the  same  way  as  is 
Prometheus  Unbound.  They  are  largely  invectives  against 
religion,  marriage,  kingcraft,  and  priestcraft,  most  impractical 
when  considered  as  schemes  for  reform,  but  abounding  in 

1  Shelley  undoubtedly  took  his  idea  from  a  lost  drama  of  /Eschylus,  a  sequel  to  Pro- 
metheus Bound,  in  which  the  great  friend  of  mankind  was  unchained  from  a  precipice, 
where  he  had  been  placed  by  the  tyrant  Zeus. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  417 

passages  of  exquisite  beauty,  for  which  alone  they  are  worth 
reading.  In  the  drama  called  The  Cenct(i8icj),  which  is  founded 
upon  a  morbid  Italian  story,  Shelley  for  the  first  and  only  time 
descends  to  reality.  The  heroine,  Beatrice,  driven  to  despera- 
tion by  the  monstrous  wickedness  of  her  father,  kills  him  and 
suffers  the  death  penalty  in  consequence.  She  is  the  only  one 
of  Shelley's  characters  who  seems  to  us  entirely  human. 

Far  different  in  character  is  Epipsychidion  (1821),  a  rhap- 
sody celebrating  Platonic  love,  the  most  impalpable,  and  so 
one  of  the  most  characteristic,  of  all  Shelley's 
works.  It  was  inspired  by  a  beautiful  Italian  girl, 
Emilia  Viviani,  who  was  put  into  a  cloister  against  her  will, 
and  in  whom  Shelley  imagined  he  found  his  long-sought  ideal 
of  womanhood.  With  this  should  be  read  Adonais  (1821), 
the  best  known  of  all  Shelley's  longer  poems.  Adonais  is  a 
wonderful  threnody,  or  a  song  of  grief,  over  the  death  of  the 
poet  Keats.  Even  in  his  grief  Shelley  still  preserves  a  sense 
of  unreality,  and  calls  in  many  shadowy  allegorical  figures, — 
Sad  Spring,  Weeping  Hours,  Glooms,  Splendors,  Destinies, 
—  all  uniting  in  bewailing  the  loss  of  a  loved  one.  The  whole 
poem  is  a  succession  of  dream  pictures,  exquisitely  beautiful, 
such  as  only  Shelley  could  imagine ;  and  it  holds  its  place 
with  Milton's  Lycidas  and  Tennyson's  In  Memoriam  as  one 
of  the  three  greatest  elegies  in  our  language. 

In  his  interpretation  of  nature  Shelley  suggests  Words- 
worth, both  by  resemblance  and  by  contrast.  To  both  poets 
Shelley  and  all  natural  objects  are  symbols  of  truth  ;  both  re- 
Wordsworth  garcj  nature  as  permeated  by  the  great  spiritual  life 
which  animates  all  things ;  but  while  Wordsworth  finds  a 
spirit  of  thought,  and  so  of  communion  between  nature  and 
the  soul  of  man,  Shelley  finds  a  spirit  of  love,  which  exists 
chiefly  for  its  own  delight;  and  so  "The  Cloud,"  "The  Sky- 
lark," and  "The  West  Wind,"  three  of  the  most  beauti- 
ful poems  in  our  language,  have  no  definite  message  for 
humanity.  In  his  "Hymn  to  Intellectual  Beauty"  Shelley  is 


41 8  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

most  like  Wordsworth ;  but  in  his  "  Sensitive  Plant,"  with  its 
fine  symbolism  and  imagery,  he  is  like  nobody  in  the  world 
but  himself.  Comparison  is  sometimes  an  excellent  thing ; 
and  if  we  compare  Shelley's  exquisite  "  Lament,"  beginning 
"O  world,  O  life,  O  time,"  with  Wordsworth's  "Intimations 
of  Immortality,"  we  shall  perhaps  understand  both  poets 
better.  Both  poems  recall  many  happy  memories  of  youth ; 
both  express  a  very  real  mood  of  a  moment ;  but  while  the 
beauty  of  one  merely  saddens  and  disheartens  us,  the  beauty 
of  the  other  inspires  us  with  something  of  the  poet's  own 
faith  and  hopefulness.  In  a  word,  Wordsworth  found  and 
Shelley  lost  himself  in  nature. 

JOHN  KEATS  (1795-1821) 

Keats  was  not  only  the  last  but  also  the  most  perfect  of 
the  Romanticists.  While  Scott  was  merely  telling  stories,  and 
Wordsworth  reforming  poetry  or  upholding  the  moral  law, 
and  Shelley  advocating  impossible  reforms,  and  Byron  voicing 
his  own  egoism  and  the  political  discontent  of  the  timeSj 
Keats  lived  apart  from  men  and  from  all  political  measures, 
worshiping  beauty  like  a  devotee,  perfectly  content  to  write 
what  was  in  his  own  heart,  or  to  reflect  some  splendor  of  the 
natural  world  as  he  saw  or  dreamed  it  to  be.  He  had,  moreover, 
the  novel  idea  that  poetry  exists  for  its  own  sake,  and  suffers 
loss  by  being  devoted  to  philosophy  or  politics  or,  indeed,  to 
any  cause,  however  great  or  small.  As  he  says  in  "  Lamia  "  : 

...  Do  not  all  charms  fly 
At  the  mere  touch  of  cold  philosophy  ? 
There  was  an  awful  rainbow  once  in  heaven : 
We  know  her  woof,  her  texture  ;  she  is  given 
In  the  dull  catalogue  of  common  things. 
Philosophy  will  clip  an  Angel's  wings, 
Conquer  all  mysteries  by  rule  and  line, 
Empty  the  haunted  air,  and  gnomed  mine  — 
Unweave  a  rainbow,  as  it  erewhile  made 
The  tender-person'd  Lamia  melt  into  a  shade. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  419 

Partly  because  of  this  high  ideal  of  poetry,  partly  because  he 
studied  and  unconsciously  imitated  the  Greek  classics  and 
the  best  works  of  the  Elizabethans,  Keats' s  last  little  volume 
of  poetry  is  unequaled  by  the  work  of  any  of  his  contempo- 
raries. When  we  remember  that  all  his  work  was  published 
in  three  short  years,  from  18 17  to  1820,  and  that  he  died  when 
only  twenty-five  years  old,  we  must  judge  him  to  be  the  most 
promising  figure  of  the  early  nineteenth  century,  and  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  in  the  history  of  literature. 

Life.  Keats's  life  of  devotion  to  beauty  and  to  poetry  is  all  the 
more  remarkable  in  view  of  his  lowly  origin.  He  was  the  son  of  a 
hostler  and  stable  keeper,  and  was  born  in  the  stable  of  the  Swan 
and  Hoop  Inn,  London,  in  1795.  One  has  only  to  read  the  rough 
stable  scenes  from  our  first  novelists,  or  even  from  Dickens,  to  un- 
derstand how  little  there  was  in  such  an  atmosphere  to  develop 
poetic  gifts.  Before  Keats  was  fifteen  years  old  both  parents  died, 
and  he  was  placed  with  his  brothers  and  sisters  in  charge  of  guardi- 
ans. Their  first  act  seems  to  have  been  to  take  Keats  from  school 
at  Enfield,  and  to  bind  him  as  an  apprentice  to  a  surgeon  at  Ed- 
monton. For  five  years  he  served  his  apprenticeship,  and  for  two 
years  more  he  was  surgeon's  helper  in  the  hospitals  ;  but  though 
skillful  enough  to  win  approval,  he  disliked  his  work,  and  his 
thoughts  were  on  other  things.  "  The  other  day,  during  a  lecture, " 
he  said  to  a  friend,  "  there  came  a  sunbeam  into  the  room,  and  with 
it  a  whole  troop  of  creatures  floating  in  the  ray ;  and  I  was  off  with 
them  to  Oberon  and  fairyland."  A  copy  of  Spenser's  Faery  Queen, 
which  had  been  given  him  by  Charles  Cowden  Clark,  was  the  prime 
cause  of  his  abstraction.  He  abandoned  his  profession  in  1817,  and 
early  in  the  same  year  published  his  first  volume  of  Poems.  It  was 
modest  enough  in  spirit,  as  was  also  his  second  volume,  Endymion 
( 1 8 1 8) ;  but  that  did  not  prevent  brutal  attacks  upon  the  author 
and  his  work  by  the  self-constituted  critics  of  Blackwood's  Magazine 
and  the  Quarterly.  It  is  often  alleged  that  the  poet's  spirit  and 
ambition  were  broken  by  these  attacks;1  but  Keats  was  a  man  of 
strong  character,  and  instead  of  quarreling  with  his  reviewers,  or 
being  crushed  by  their  criticism,  he  went  quietly  to  work  with  the 

1  This  idea  is  suppported  by  Shelley's  poem  Adonais,  and  by  Byron's  parody  against 
the  reviewers,  beginning,  "  Who  killed  John  Keats  ?  I,  says  the  Quarterly." 


420  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

idea  of  producing  poetry  that  should  live  forever.  As  Matthew 
Arnold  says,  Keats  "  had  flint  and  iron  in  him  "  ;  and  in  his  next 
volume  he  accomplished  his  own  purpose  and  silenced  unfriendly 
criticism. 

For  the  three  years  during  which  Keats  wrote  his  poetry  he  lived 
chiefly  in  London  and  in  Hampstead,  but  wandered  at  times  over 
England  and  Scotland,  living  for  brief  spaces  in  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
in  Devonshire,  and  in  the  Lake  district,  seeking  to  recover  his  own 
health,  and  especially  to  restore  that  of  his  brother.  His  illness  be- 
gan with  a  severe  cold,  but  soon  developed  into  consumption;  and 
added  to  this  sorrow  was  another,  —  his  love  for  Fannie  Brawne,  to 
whom  he  was  engaged,  but  whom  he  could  not  marry  on  account  of 
his  poverty  and  growing  illness.  When  we  remember  all  this  per- 
sonal grief  and  the  harsh  criticism  of  literary  men,  the  last  small 
volume,  Lamia ,  Isabella,  The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes,  and  Other  Poems 
(1820),  is  most  significant,  as  showing  not  only  Keats's  wonderful 
poetic  gifts,  but  also  his  beautiful  and  indomitable  spirit.  Shelley, 
struck  by  the  beauty  and  promise  of  "  Hyperion,"  sent  a  generous 
invitation  to  the  author  to  come  to  Pisa  and  live  with  him;  but 
Keats  refused,  having  little  sympathy  with  Shelley's  revolt  against 
society.  The  invitation  had  this  effect,  however,  that  it  turned 
Keats's  thoughts  to  Italy,  whither  he  soon  went  in  the  effort  to  save 
his  life.  He  settled  in  Rome  with  his  friend  Severn,  the  artist,  but 
died  soon  after  his  arrival,  in  February,  1821.  His  grave,  in  the 
Protestant  cemetery  at  Rome,  is  still  an  object  of  pilgrimage  to 
thousands  of  tourists ;  for  among  all  our  poets  there  is  hardly 
another  whose  heroic  life  and  tragic  death  have  so  appealed  to  the 
hearts  of  poets  and  young  enthusiasts. 

The  Work  of  Keats.  "None  but  the  master  sball  praise 
us;  and  none  but  the  master  shall  blame"  might  well  be 
written  on  the  fly  leaf  of  every  volume  of  Keats's  poetry  ;  for 
never  was  there  a  poet  more  devoted  to  his  ideal,  entirely 
independent  of  success  or  failure.  In  strong  contrast  with 
his  contemporary,  Byron,  who  professed  to  despise  the  art 
that  made  him  famous,  Keats  lived  for  poetry  alone,  and,  as 
Lowell  pointed  out,  a  virtue  went  out  of  him  into  everything  he 
wrote.  In  all  his  work  we  have  the  impression  of  this  intense 
loyalty  to  his  art ;  we  have  the  impressiop  also  of  a  profound 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  421 

dissatisfaction  that  the  deed  falls  so  far  short  of  the  splendid 
dream.  Thus  after  reading  Chapman's  translation  of  Homer  he 

Much  have  I  travelled  in  the  realms  of  gold, 
And  many  goodly  states  and  kingdoms  seen: 
Round  many  western  islands  have  I  been 
Which  bards  in  fealty  to  Apollo  hold. 
Oft  of  one  wide  expanse  had  I  been  told 
That  deep-browed  Homer  ruled  as  his  demesne  ; 
Yet  did  I  never  breathe  its  pure  serene 
Till  I  heard  Chapman  speak  out  loud  and  bold: 
Then  felt.  I  like  some  watcher  of  the  skies 
When  a  new  planet  swims  into  his  ken ; 
Or  like  stout  Cortez  when  with  eagle  eyes 
He  stared  at  the  Pacific  —  and  all  his  men 
Looked  at  each  other  with  a  wild  surmise  — 
Silent,  upon  a  peak  in  Darien. 

In  this  striking  sonnet  we  have  a  suggestion  of  Keats's  high 
ideal,  and  of  his  sadness  because  of  his  own  ignorance,  when 
he  published  his  first  little  volume  of  poems  in  1817.  He 
knew  no  Greek ;  yet  Greek  literature  absorbed  and  fascinated 
him,  as  he  saw  its  broken  and  imperfect  reflection  in  an  Eng- 
lish translation.  Like  Shakespeare,  who  also  was  but  poorly 
educated  in  the  schools,  he  had  a  marvelous  faculty  of  dis- 
cerning the  real  spirit  of  the  classics,  —  a  faculty  denied  to 
many  great  scholars,  and  to  most  of  the  "  classic  "  writers  of 
the  preceding  century, — and  so  he  set  himself  to  the  task  of 
reflecting  in  modern  English  the  spirit  of  the  old  Greeks. 

The  imperfect  results  of  this  attempt  are  seen  in  his  next 
volume,  Endymion,  which  is  the  story  of  a  young  shepherd 
beloved  by  a  moon  goddess.  The  poem  begins  with  the  strik- 
ing lines : 

A  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy  forever  ; 

Its  loveliness  increases  ;  it  will  never 

Pass  into  nothingness  ;  but  still  will  keep 

A  bower  quiet  for  us  ;  and  a  sleep 

Full  of  sweet  dreams,  and  health,  and  quiet  breathing, 

which  well  illustrate  the  spirit  of  Keats's  later  work,  with  its 
perfect  finish  and  melody.  It  has  many  quotable  lines  and 


422  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

passages,  and  its  "  Hymn  to  Pan  "  should  be  read  in  connection 
with  Wordsworth's  famous  sonnet  beginning,  "  The  world  is  too 
much  with  us."  The  poem  gives  splendid  promise,  but  as  a  whole 
it  is  rather  chaotic,  with  too  much  ornament  and  too  little  de- 
sign, like  a  modern  house.  That  Keats  felt  this  defect  strongly 
is  evident  from  his  modest  preface,  wherein  he  speaks  of  Endy- 
mion,  not  as  a  deed  accomplished,  but  only  as  an  unsuccessful 
attempt  to  suggest  the  underlying  beauty  of  Greek  mythology. 

Keats's  third  and  last  volume,  Lamia,  Isabella,  The  Eve  of 
St.  Agnes,  and  Other  Poems  (1820),  is  the  one  with  which  the 
Lamia  and  reader  should  begin  his  acquaintance  with  this  mas- 
Other  Poems  ter  Of  English  verse.  It  has  only  two  subjects, 
Greek  mythology  and  mediaeval  romance.  "  Hyperion  "  is  a 
magnificent  fragment,  suggesting  the  first  arch  of  a  cathedral 
that  was  never  finished.  Its  theme  is  the  overthrow  of  the 
Titans  by  the  young  sun-god  Apollo.  Realizing  his  own  im- 
maturity and  lack  of  knowledge,  Keats  laid  aside  this  work, 
and  only  the  pleadings  of  his  publisher  induced  him  to  print 
the  fragment  with  his  completed  poems. 

Throughout  this  last  volume,  and  especially  in  "  Hyperion," 
the  influence  of  Milton  is  apparent,  while  Spenser  is  more 
frequently  suggested  in  reading ' Endymion. 

Of  the  longer  poems  in  the  volume,  "  Lamia  "  is  the  most 
suggestive.  It  is  the  story  of  a  beautiful  enchantress,  who 
turns  from  a  serpent  into  a  glorious  woman  and  fills  every 
human  sense  with  delight,  until,  as  a  result  of  the  foolish 
philosophy  of  old  Apollonius,  she  vanishes  forever  from  her 
lover's  sight.  "The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes,"  the  most  perfect  of 
Keats's  mediaeval  poems,  is  not  a  story  after  the  manner  of 
the  metrical  romances,  but  rather  a  vivid  painting  of  a  roman- 
tic mood,  such  as  comes  to  all  men,  at  times,  to  glorify  a 
workaday  world.  Like  all  the  work  of  Keats  and  Shelley,  it 
has  an  element  of  unreality ;  and  when  we  read  at  the  end, 

And  they  are  gone  ;  aye,  ages  long  ago 
These  lovers  fled  away  into  the  storm, 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  423 

it  is  as  if  we  were  waking  from  a  dream,  —  which  is  the  only 
possible  ending  to  all  of  Keats's  Greek  and  mediaeval  fancies. 
We  are  to  remember,  however,  that  no  beautiful  thing,  though 
it  be  intangible  as  a  dream,  can  enter  a  man's  life  and  leave 
him  quite  the  same  afterwards.  Keats's  own  word  is  here  sug- 
gestive. "The  imagination,"  he  said,  "may  be  likened  to 
Adam's  dream  ;  he  awoke  and  found  it  true." 

It  is  by  his  short  poems  that  Keats  is  known  to  the  major- 
ity of  present-day  readers.  Among  these  exquisite  shorter 
poems  we  mention  only  the  four  odes,  "  On  a  Grecian  Urn," 
"To  a  Nightingale,"  "To  Autumn,"  and  "To  Psyche."  These 
are  like  an  invitation  to  a  feast ;  one  who  reads  them  will 
hardly  be  satisfied  until  he  knows  more  of  such  delightful 
poetry.  Those  who  study  only  the  "  Ode  to  a  Nightingale  " 
may  find  four  things,  —  a  love  of  sensuous  beauty,  a  touch  of 
pessimism,  a  purely  pagan  conception  of  nature,  and  a  strong 
individualism,  —  which  are  characteristic  of  this  last  of  the 
romantic  poets. 

As  Wordsworth's  work  is  too  often  marred  by  the  moral- 
izer,  and  Byron's  by  the  demagogue,  and  Shelley's  by  the 
Keats's  Place  reformer,  so  Keats's  work  suffers  by  the  opposite 
in  Literature  extreme  of  aloofness  from  every  human  interest ; 
so  much  so,  that  he  is  often  accused  of  being  indifferent  to 
humanity.  His  work  is  also  criticised  as  being  too  effeminate 
for  ordinary  readers.  Three  things  should  be  remembered  in 
this  connection.  First,  that  Keats  sought  to  express  beauty 
for  its  own  sake  ;  that  beauty  is  as  essential  to  normal  hu- 
manity as  is  government  or  law ;  and  that  the  higher  man 
climbs  in  civilization  the  more  imperative  becomes  his  need 
of  beauty  as  a  reward  for  his  labors.  Second,  that  Keats's  let- 
ters are  as  much  an  indication  of  the  man  as  is  his  poetry ; 
and  in  his  letters,  with  their  human  sympathy,  their  eager 
interest  in  social  problems,  their  humor,  and  their  keen  insight 
into  life,  there  is  no  trace  of  effeminacy,  but  rather  every 
indication  of  a  strong  and  noble  manhood.  The  third  thing 


424  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

to  remember  is  that  all  Keats's  work  was  done  in  three  or  four 
years,  with  small  preparation,  and  that,  dying  at  twenty-five, 
he  left  us  a  body  of  poetry  which  will  always  be  one  of  our 
most  cherished  possessions.  He  is  often  compared  with  "the 
marvelous  boy  "  Chatterton,  whom  he  greatly  admired,  and 
to  whose  memory  he  dedicated  his  Endymion ;  but  though 
both  died  young,  Chatterton  was  but  a  child,  while  Keats  was 
in  all  respects  a  man.  It  is  idle  to  prophesy  what  he  might 
have  done,  had  he  been  granted  a  Tennyson's  long  life  and 
scholarly  training.  At  twenty-five  his  work  was  as  mature 
as  was  Tennyson's  at  fifty,  though  the  maturity  suggests 
the  too  rapid  growth  of  a  tropical  plant  which  under  the  warm 
rains  and  the  flood  of  sunlight  leaps  into  life,  grows,  blooms 
in  a  day,  and  dies. 

As  we  have  stated,  Keats's  work  was  bitterly  and  unjustly 
condemned  by  the  critics  of  his  day.  He  belonged  to  what 
was  derisively  called  the  cockney  school  of  poetry,  of  which 
Leigh  Hunt  was  chief,  and  Proctor  and  Beddoes  were  fellow- 
workmen.  Not  even  from  Wordsworth  and  Byron,  who  were 
ready  enough  to  recommend  far  less  gifted  writers,  did  Keats 
receive  the  slightest  encouragement.  Like  young  Lochinvar, 
"he  rode  all  unarmed  and  he  rode  all  alone."  Shelley,  with 
his  sincerity  and  generosity,  was  the  first  to  recognize  the 
young  genius,  and  in  his  noble  Adonais  —  written,  alas,  like 
most  of  our  tributes,  when  the  subject  of  our  praise  is  dead 
—  he  spoke  the  first  true  word  of  appreciation,  and  placed 
Keats,  where  he  unquestionably  belongs,  among  our  greatest 
poets.  The  fame  denied  him  in  his  sad  life  was  granted  freely 
after  his  death.  Most  fitly  does  he  close  the  list  of  poets  of 
the  romantic  revival,  because  in  many  respects  he  was  the 
best  workman  of  them  all.  He  seems  to  have  studied  words 
more  carefully  than  did  his  contemporaries,  and  so  his  poetic 
expression,  or  the  harmony  of  word  and  thought,  is  gener- 
ally more  perfect  than  theirs.  More  than  any  other  he  lived 
for  poetry,  as  the  noblest  of  the  arts.  More  than  any  other 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  425 

he  emphasized  beauty,  because  to  him,  as  shown  by  his  "  Gre- 
cian Urn,"  beauty  and  truth  were  one  and  inseparable.  And 
he  enriched  the  whole  romantic  movement  by  adding  to  its 
interest  in  common  life  the  spirit,  rather  than  the  letter,  of  the 
classics  and  of  Elizabethan  poetry.  For  these  reasons  Keats 
is,  like  Spenser,  a  poet's  poet ;  his  work  profoundly  influenced 
Tennyson  and,  indeed,  most  of  the  poets  of  the  present  era. 

II.  PROSE  WRITERS  OF  THE   ROMANTIC  PERIOD 

Aside  from  the  splendid  work  of  the  novel  writers  —  Wal- 
ter Scott,  whom  we  have  considered,  and  Jane  Austen,  to 
Literary  whom  we  shall  presently  return  —  the  early  nine- 
Criticism  teenth  century  is  remarkable  for  the  development 
of  a  new  and  valuable  type  of  critical  prose  writing.  If  we 
except  the  isolated  work  of  Dryden  and  of  Addison,  it  is  safe 
to  say  that  literary  criticism,  in  its  modern  sense,  was  hardly 
known  in  England  until  about  the  year  1825.  Such  criticism 
as  existed  seems  to  us  now  to  have  been  largely  the  result  of 
personal  opinion  or  prejudice.  Indeed  we  could  hardly  expect 
anything  else  before  some  systematic  study  of  our  literature 
as  a  whole  had  been  attempted.  In  one  age  a  poem  was  called 
good  or  bad  according  as  it  followed  or  ran  counter  to  so- 
called  classic  rules  ;  in  another  we  have  the  dogmatism  of 
Dr.  Johnson ;  in  a  third  the  personal  judgment  of  Lockhart 
and  the  editors  of  the  Edinburgh  Review  and  the  Quarterly, 
who  so  violently  abused  Keats  and  the  Lake  poets  in  the 
name  of  criticism.  Early  in  the  nineteenth  century  there 
arose  a  new  school  of  criticism  which  was  guided  by  knowl- 
edge of  literature,  on  the  one  hand,  and  by  what  one  might 
call  the  fear  of  God  on  the  other.  The  latter  element  showed 
itself,  in  a  profound  human  sympathy,  —  the  essence  of  the 
romantic  movement,  —  and  its  importance  was  summed  up  by 
De  Quincey  when  he  said,  "  Not  to  sympathize  is  not  to  under- 
stand." These  new  critics,  with  abundant  reverence  for  past 
masters,  could  still  lay  aside  the  dogmatism  and  prejudice 


426  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

which  marked  Johnson  and  the  magazine  editors,  and  read 
sympathetically  the  work  of  a  new  author,  with  the  sole  idea 
of  finding  what  he  had  contributed,  or  tried  to  contribute, 
to  the  magnificent  total  of  our  literature.  Coleridge,  Hunt, 
Hazlitt,  Lamb,  and  De  Quincey  were  the  leaders  in  this  new 
and  immensely  important  development ;  and  we  must  not  for- 
get the  importance  of  the  new  periodicals,  like  the  London 
Magazine,  founded  in  1820,  in  which  Lamb,  De  Quincey,  and 
Carlyle  found  their  first  real  encouragement. 

Of  Coleridge's  Biographia  Literaria  and  his  Lectures  on 
Shakespeare  we  have  already  spoken.  Leigh  Hunt  (1784- 
Huntand  l%59)  wrote  continuously  for  more  than  thirty 
Hazlitt  years,  as  editor  and  essayist ;  and  his  chief  object 
seems  to  have  been  to  make  good  literature  known  and  appre- 
ciated. William  Hazlitt  (1778-1830),  in  a  long  series  of  lec- 
tures and  essays,  treated  all  reading  as  a  kind  of  romantic 
journey  into  new  and  pleasant  countries.  To  his  work  largely, 
with  that  of  Lamb,  was  due  the  new  interest  in  Elizabethan 
literature,  which  so  strongly  influenced  Keats's  last  and  best 
volume  of  poetry.  For  those  interested  in  the  art  of  criticism, 
and  in  the  appreciation  of  literature,  both  Hunt  and  Hazlitt 
will  well  repay  study ;  but  we  must  pass  over  their  work  to 
consider  the  larger  literary  interest  of  Lamb  and  De  Quincey, 
who  were  not  simply  critics  of  other  men's  labor,  but  who 
also  produced  some  delightful  work  of  their  own,  which  the 
world  has  carefully  put  away  among  the  "things  worthy  to 
be  remembered." 

CHARLES  LAMB  (1775-1834) 

In  Lamb  and  Wordsworth  we  have  two  widely  different 
views  of  the  romantic  movement ;  one  shows  the  influence  of 
nature  and  solitude,  the  other  of  society.  Lamb  was  a  lifelong 
friend  of  Coleridge,  and  an  admirer  and  defender  of  the  poetic 
creed  of  Wordsworth ;  but  while  the  latter  lived  apart  from 
men,  content  with  nature  and  with  reading  an  occasional 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM 


427 


moral  lesson  to  society,  Lamb  was  born  and  lived  in  the  midst 
of  the  London  streets.  The  city  crowd,  with  its  pleasures  and 
occupations,  its  endless  little  comedies  and  tragedies,  alone  in- 
terested him.  According  to  his  own  account,  when  he  paused 
in  the  crowded  street  tears  would  spring  to  his  eyes,  —  tears 
of  pure  pleasure  at  the  abundance  of  so  much  good  life ;  and 
when  he  wrote,  he  simply  interpreted  that  crowded  human  life 
of  joy  and  sorrow,  as  Wordsworth  in- 
terpreted the  woods  and  waters,  with- 
out any  desire  to  change  or  to  reform 
them.  He  has  given  us  the  best  pic- 
tures we  possess  of  Coleridge,  Haz- 
litt,  Landor,  Hood,  Cowden  Clarke, 
and  many  more  of  the  interesting  men 
and  women  of  his  age  ;  and  it  is  due 
to  his  insight  and  sympathy  that  the 
life  of  those  far-off  days  seems  almost 
as  real  to  us  as  if  we  ourselves  remem- 
bered it.  Of  all  our  English  essayists 
he  is  the  most  lovable  ;  partly  because 
of  his  delicate,  old-fashioned  style  and  humor,  but  more  be- 
cause of  that  cheery  and  heroic  struggle  against  misfortune 
which  shines  like  a  subdued  light  in  all  his  writings. 

Life.  In  the  very  heart  of  London  there  is  a  curious,  old- 
fashioned  place  known  as  the  Temple,  —  an  enormous,  rambling, 
apparently  forgotten  structure,  dusty  and  still,  in  the  midst  of  the 
endless  roar  of  the  city  streets.  Originally  it  was  a  chapter  house 
of  the  Knights  Templars,  and  so  suggests  to  us  the  spirit  of  the 
Crusades  and  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  but  now  the  building  is  given 
over  almost  entirely  to  the  offices  and  lodgings  of  London  lawyers. 
It  is  this  queer  old  place  which,  more  than  all  others,  is  associated 
with  the  name  of  Charles  Lamb.  "  I  was  born,"  he  says,  "and 
passed  the  first  seven  years  of  my  life  in  the  Temple.  Its  gardens, 
its  halls,  its  fountain,  its  river  .  .  .  these  are  my  oldest  recollec- 
tions." He  was  the  son  of  a  poor  clerk,  or  rather  servant,  of  one  of 
the  barristers,  and  was  the  youngest  of  seven  children,  only  three  of 


CHARLES   LAMB 


428 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


whom  survived  infancy.  Of  these  three,  John,  the  elder,  was  appar- 
ently a  selfish  creature,  who  took  no  part  in  the  heroic  struggle  of 
his  brother  and  sister.  At  seven  years,  Charles  was  sent  to  the  famous 
"Bluecoat"  charity  school  of  Christ's  Hospital.  Here  he  remained 
seven  years ;  and  here  he  formed  his  lifelong  friendship  for  another 
poor,  neglected  boy,  whom  the  world  remembers  as  Coleridge.1 

When  only  fourteen  years  old,  Lamb  left  the  charity  school  and 
was  soon  at  work  as  a  clerk  in  the  South  Sea  House.  Two  years 
later  he  became  a  clerk  in  the  famous  India  House,  where  he  worked 


CHRIST'S  HOSPITAL,  LONDON 

steadily  for  thirty-three  years,  with  the  exception  of  six  weeks,  in 
the  winter  of  1795-1796,  spent  within  the  walls  of  an  asylum. 
In  1796  Lamb's  sister  Mary,  who  was  as  talented  and  remarkable 
as  Lamb  himself,  went  violently  insane  and  killed  her  own  mother. 
For  a  long  time  after  this  appalling  tragedy  she  was  in  an  asylum  at 
Hoxton;  then  Lamb,  in  1797,  brought  her  to  his  own  little  house, 
and  for  the  remainder  of  his  life  cared  for  her  with  a  tenderness  and 
devotion  which  furnishes  one  of  the  most  beautiful  pages  in  our 
literary  history.  At  times  the  malady  would  return  to  Mary,  giving 

1  See  "  Christ's  Hospital  Five  and  Thirty  Years  Ago,"  in  Essays  of  Elia. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  429 

sure  warning  of  its  terrible  approach ;  and  then  brother  and  sister 
might  be  seen  walking  silently,  hand  in  hand,  to  the  gates  of  the 
asylum,  their  cheeks  wet  with  tears.  One  must  remember  this,  as 
well  as  Lamb's  humble  lodgings  and  the  drudgery  of  his  daily  work 
in  the  big  commercial  house,  if  he  would  appreciate  the  pathos  of 
"The  Old  Familiar  Faces,"  or  the  heroism  which  shines  through  the 
most  human  and  the  most  delightful  essays  in  our  language. 

When  Lamb  was  fifty  years  of  age  the  East  India  Company,  led 
partly  by  his  literary  fame  following  his  first  Essays  of  Elia,  and 
partly  by  his  thirty-three  years  of  faithful  service,  granted  him  a 
comfortable  pension  ;  and  happy  as  a  boy  turned  loose  from  school 
he  left  India  House  forever  to  give  himself  up  to  literary  work.1  He 
wrote  to  Wordsworth,  in  April,  1825,  "I  came  home  forever  on 
Tuesday  of  last  week  —  it  was  like  passing  from  life  into  eternity.'* 
Curiously  enough  Lamb  seems  to  lose  power  after  his  release  from 
drudgery,  and  his  last  essays,  published  in  1833,  lack  something  of 
the  grace  and  charm  of  his  earlier  work.  He  died  at  Edmonton  in 
1834;  and  his  gifted  sister  Mary  sank  rapidly  into  the  gulf  from 
which  his  strength  and  gentleness  had  so  long  held  her  back.  No 
literary  man  was  ever  more  loved  and  honored  by  a  rare  circle  of 
friends ;  and  all  who  knew  him  bear  witness  to  the  simplicity  and 
goodness  which  any  reader  may  find  for  himself  between  the  lines 
of  his  essays. 

Works.  The  works  of  Lamb  divide  themselves  naturally 
into  three  periods.  First,  there  are  his  early  literary  efforts, 
including  the  poems  signed  w  C.  L."  in  Coleridge's  Poems  on 
Various  Subjects  (1796)  ;  his  romance  Rosamund  Gray  (1798)  ; 
his  poetical  drama  John  Woodvil  (1802);  and  various  other 
immature  works  in  prose  and  poetry.  This  period  comes  to  an 
end  in  1803,  when  he  gave  up  his  newspaper  work,  especially 
the  contribution  of  six  jokes,  puns,  and  squibs  daily  to  the 
Morning  Post  at  sixpence  apiece.  The  second  period  was 
given  largely  to  literary  criticism  ;  and  the  Tales  from  Shake- 
speare (1807)  —  written  by  Charles  and  Mary  Lamb,  the 
former  reproducing  the  tragedies,  and  the  latter  the  comedies 
—  may  be  regarded  as  his  first  successful  literary  venture. 

1  See  Essays  ofElia,  "  The  Superannuated  Man." 


430  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

The  book  was  written  primarily  for  children;  but  so  thor- 
oughly had  brother  and  sister  steeped  themselves  in  the  litera- 
ture of  the  Elizabethan  period  that  young  and  old  alike  were 
delighted  with  this  new  version  of  Shakespeare's  stories,  and 
the  Tales  are  still  regarded  as  the  best  of  their  kind  in  our 
literature.  In  1808  appeared  his  Specimens  of  English  Dra- 
matic Poets  Contemporary  with  Shakespeare.  This  carried 
out  the  splendid  critical  work  of  Coleridge,  and  was  the  most 
noticeable  influence  in  developing  the  poetic  qualities  of 
Keats,  as  shown  in  his  last  volume. 

The  third  period  includes  Lamb's  criticisms  of  life,  which 
are  gathered  together  in  his  Essays  of  Elia  (1823),  and  his 
Essays  of  Last  Essays  of  Elia,  which  were  published  ten 
Ella  years  later.  These  famous  essays  began  in  1820 

with  the  appearance  of  the  new  London  Magazine?  and 
were  continued  for  many  years,  such  subjects  as  the  "  Disser- 
tation on  Roast  Pig,"  "Old  China,"  "Praise  of  Chimney 
Sweepers,"  "Imperfect  Sympathies,"  "A  Chapter  on  Ears," 
"Mrs.  Battle's  Opinions  on  Whist,"  " Mackery  End,"  "Grace 
Before  Meat,"  "  Dream  Children,"  and  many  others  being 
chosen  apparently  at  random,  but  all  leading  to  a  delightful 
interpretation  of  the  life  of  London,  as  it  appeared  to  a  quiet 
little  man  who  walked  unnoticed  through  its  crowded  streets. 
In  the  first  and  last  essays  which  we  have  mentioned,  "  Dis- 
sertation on  Roast  Pig"  and  "Dream  Children,"  we  have  the 
extremes  of  Lamb's  humor  and  pathos. 

The  style  of  all  these  essays  is  gentle,  old-fashioned,  irre- 
sistibly attractive.  Lamb  was  especially  fond  of  old  writers, 
and  borrowed  unconsciously  from  the  style  of  Bur- 
ton's Anatomy  of  Melancholy  and  from  Browne's 
Religio  Medici  and  from  the  early  English  dramatists.  But 
this  style  had  become  a  part  of  Lamb  by  long  reading,  and 

1  In  the  first  essay,  "  The  South  Sea  House,"  Lamb  assumed  as  a  joke  the  name  of  a 
former  clerk,  Elia.  Other  essays  followed,  and  the  name  was  retained  when  several  suc- 
cessful essays  were  published  in  book  form,  in  1823.  In  these  essays  "Elia"  is  Lamb 
himself,  and  "  Cousin  Bridget "  is  his  sister  Mary. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  431 

he  was  apparently  unable  to  express  his  new  thought  without 
using  their  old  quaint  expressions.  Though  these  essays  are 
all  criticisms  or  appreciations  of  the  life  of  his  age,  they  are 
all  intensely  personal.  In  other  words,  they  are  an  excellent 
picture  of  Lamb  and  of  humanity.  Without  a  trace  of  vanity 
or  self-assertion,  Lamb  begins  with  himself,  with  some  purely 
personal  mood  or  experience,  and  from  this  he  leads  the  reader 
to  see  life  and  literature  as  he  saw  it.  It  is  this  wonderful 
combination  of  personal  and  universal  interests,  together  with 
Lamb's  rare  old  style  and  quaint  humor,  which  make  the 
essays  remarkable.  They  continue  the  best  tradition  of  Addi- 
son  and  Steele,  our  first  great  essayists  ;  but  their  sympathies 
are  broader  and  deeper,  and  their  humor  more  delicious,  than 
any  which  preceded  them. 

THOMAS  DE  QUINCEY  (1785-1859) 

In  De  Quincey  the  romantic  element  is  even  more  strongly 
developed  than  in  Lamb,  not  only  in  his  critical  work,  but 
also  in  his  erratic  and  imaginative  life.  He  was  profoundly 
educated,  even  more  so  than  Coleridge,  and  was  one  of  the 
keenest  intellects  of  the  age ;  yet  his  wonderful  intellect 
seems  always  subordinate  to  his  passion  for  dreaming.  Like 
Lamb,  he  was  a  friend  and  associate  of  the  Lake  poets,  mak- 
ing his  headquarters  in  Wordsworth's  old  cottage  at  Gras- 
mere  for  nearly  twenty  years.  Here  the  resemblance  ceases, 
and  a  marked  contrast  begins.  As  a  man,  Lamb  is  the  most 
human  and  lovable  of  all  our  essayists ;  while  De  Quincey  is 
the  most  uncanny  and  incomprehensible.  Lamb's  modest 
works  breathe  the  two  essential  qualities  of  sympathy  and 
humor ;  the  greater  number  of  De  Quincey's  essays,  while 
possessing  more  or  less  of  both  these  qualities,  are  character- 
ized chiefly  by  their  brilliant  style.  Life,  as  seen  through 
De  Quincey's  eyes,  is  nebulous  and  chaotic,  and  there  is  a 
suspicion  of  the  fabulous  in  all  that  he  wrote.  Even  in  The 
Revolt  of  the  Tartars  the  romantic  element  is  uppermost,  and 


432  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

in  much  of  De  Quincey's  prose  the  element  of  unreality  is 
more  noticeable  than  in  Shelley's  poetry.  Of  his  subject- 
matter,  his  facts,  ideas,  and  criticisms,  we  are  generally  sus- 
picious ;  but  of  his  style,  sometimes  stately  and  sometimes 
headlong,  now  gorgeous  as  an  Oriental  dream,  now  musical 
as  Keats's  Endymion,  and  always,  even  in  the  most  violent 
contrasts,  showing  a  harmony  between  the  idea  and  the  ex- 
pression such  as  no  other  English  writer,  with  the  possible 
exception  of  Newman,  has  ever  rivaled,  —  say  what  you  will 
of  the  marvelous  brilliancy  of  De  Quincey's  style,  you  have 
still  only  half  expressed  the  truth.  It  is  the  Style  alone  which 
makes  these  essays  immortal. 

Life.  De  Quincey  was  born  in  Manchester  in  1785.  In  neither 
his  father,  who  was  a  prosperous  merchant,  nor  his  mother,  who  was 
a  quiet,  unsympathetic  woman,  do  we  see  any  suggestion  of  the  son's 
almost  uncanny  genius.  As  a  child  he  was  given  to  dreams,  more 
vivid  and  intense  but  less  beautiful  than  those  of  the  young  Blake, 
to  whom  he  bears  a  strong  resemblance.  In  the  grammar  school  at 
Bath  he  displayed  astonishing  ability,  and  acquired  Greek  and  Latin 
with  a  rapidity  that  frightened  his  slow  tutors.  At  fifteen  he  not 
only  read  Greek,  but  spoke  it  fluently;  and  one  of  his  astounded 
teachers  remarked,  "  That  boy  could  harangue  an  Athenian  mob 
better  than  you  or  I  could  address  an  English  one."  From  the  gram- 
mar school  at  Manchester,  whither  he  was  sent  in  1800,  he  soon  ran 
away,  finding  the  instruction  far  below  his  abilities,  and  the  rough 
life  absolutely  intolerable  to  his  sensitive  nature.  An  uncle,  just 
home  from  India,  interceded  for  the  boy  lest  he  be  sent  back  to  the 
school,  which  he  hated ;  and  with  an  allowance  of  a  guinea  a  week 
he  started  a  career  of  vagrancy,  much  like  that  of  Goldsmith,  living 
on  the  open  hills,  in  the  huts  of  shepherds  and  charcoal  burners,  in 
the  tents  of  gypsies,  wherever  fancy  led  him.  His  fear  of  the  Man- 
chester school  finally  led  him  to  run  away  to  London,  where,  with- 
out money  or  friends,  his  life  was  even  more  extraordinary  than  his 
gypsy  wanderings.  The  details  of  this  vagrancy  are  best  learned  in 
his  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium-Eater,  where  we  meet  not 
simply  the  facts  of  his  life,  but  also  the  confusion  of  dreams  and 
fancies  in  the  midst  of  which  he  wandered  like  a  man  lost  on  the 
mountains,  with  storm  clouds  under  his  feet  hiding  the  familiar 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM 


433 


earth.  After  a  year  of  vagrancy  and  starvation  he  was  found  by  his 
family  and  allowed  to  go  to  Oxford,  where  his  career  was  marked  by 
the  most  brilliant  and  erratic  scholarship.  When  ready  for  a  degree, 
in  1807,  he  passed  his  written  tests  successfully,  but  felt  a  sudden 
terror  at  the  thought  of  the  oral  examination  and  disappeared  from 
the  university,  never  to  return. 

It  was  in  Oxford  that  De  Quincey  began  the  use  of  opium,  to  relieve 
the  pains  of  neuralgia,  and  the  habit  increased  until  he  was  an  almost 
hopeless  slave  to  the  drug. 
Only  his  extraordinary  will 
power  enabled  him  to  break 
away  from  the  habit,  after 
some  thirty  years  of  misery. 
Some  peculiarity  of  his  deli- 
cate constitution  enabled  De 
Quincey  to  take  enormous 
quantities  of  opium,  enough 
to  kill  several  ordinary  men  ; 
and  it  was  largely  opium, 
working  upon  a  sensitive  im- 
agination, which  produced 
his  gorgeous  dreams,  broken 
by  intervals  of  weakness  and 
profound  depression.  For 
twenty  years  he  resided  at 
Grasmere  in  the  companion- 
ship of  the  Lake  poets ;  and 
here,  led  by  the  loss  of  his 
small  fortune,  he  began  to 
write,  with  the  idea  of  sup- 
porting his  family.  In  1821  he  published  his  first  famous  work, 
the  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium-Eater,  and  for  nearly  forty 
years  afterwards  he  wrote  industriously,  contributing  to  various 
magazines  an  astonishing  number  of  essays  on  a  great  variety  of 
subjects.  Without  thought  of  literary  fame,  he  contributed  these 
articles  anonymously;  but  fortunately,  in  1853,  he  began  to  collect 
his  own  works,  and  the  last  of  fourteen  volumes  was  published  just 
after  his  death. 

In  1830,  led  by  his  connection  with  Blackwood's  Magazine,  to 
which  he  was  the  chief  contributor,  De  Quincey  removed  with  his 


THOMAS    DE   QUINCEY 


434  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

family  to  Edinburgh,  where  his  erratic  genius  and  his  singularly 
childlike  ways  produced  enough  amusing  anecdotes  to  fill  a  volume. 
He  would  take  a  room  in  some  place  unknown  to  his  friends  and 
family ;  would  live  in  it  for  a  few  years,  until  he  had  filled  it,  even 
to  the  bath  tub,  with  books  and  with  his  own  chaotic  manuscripts, 
allowing  no  one  to  enter  or  disturb  his  den ;  and  then,  when  the 
place  became  too  crowded,  he  would  lock  the  door  and  go  away  and 
take  another  lodging,  where  he  repeated  the  same  extraordinary 
performance.  He  died  in  Edinburgh  in  1859.  Like  Lamb,  he  was 
a  small,  boyish  figure,  gentle,  and  elaborately  courteous.  Though, 
excessively  shy,  and  escaping  as  often  as  possible  to  solitude,  he  was 
nevertheless  fond  of  society,  and  his  wide  knowledge  and  vivid 
imagination  made  his  conversations  almost  as  prized  as  those  of  his 
friend  Coleridge. 

Works.  De  Quincey's  works  may  be  divided  into  two  gen- 
eral classes.  The  first  includes  his  numerous  critical  articles, 
and  the  second  his  autobiographical  sketches.  All  his  works, 
it  must  be  remembered,  were  contributed  to  various  maga- 
zines, and  were  hastily  collected  just  before  his  death.  Hence 
the  general  impression  of  chaos  which  we  get  from  reading 
them. 

From  a  literary  view  point  the  most  illuminating  of  De 
Quincey's  critical  works  is  his  Literary  Reminiscences.  This 
Critical  contains  brilliant  appreciations  of  Wordsworth,  Cole- 
Essays  ridge,  Lamb,  Shelley,  Keats,  Hazlitt,  and  Landor, 
as  well  as  some  interesting  studies  of  the  literary  figures  of 
the  age  preceding.  Among  the  best  of  his  brilliant  critical 
essays  are  On  the  Knocking  at  the  Gate  in  Macbeth  (1823), 
which  is  admirably  suited  to  show  the  man's  critical  genius, 
and  Murder  Considered  as  One  of  the  Fine  Arts  (1827),  which 
reveals  his  grotesque  humor.  Other  suggestive  critical  works, 
if  one  must  choose  among  such  a  multitude,  are  his  Letters  to 
a  Young  Man  (1823),  Joan  of  Arc  (1847),  The  Revolt  of  the 
Tartars  (1840),  and  The  English  Mail-Coach  (1849).  In  the 
last-named  essay  the  "Dream  Fugue"  is  one  of  the  most 
imaginative  of  all  his  curious  works. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  435 

Of  De  Quincey's  autobiographical  sketches  the  best  known 
is  his  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium-Eater  (1821).  This  is 
Confessions  on^  Partl}r  a  record  of  opium  dreams,  and  its  chief 
of  an  Opium-  interest  lies  in  glimpses  it  gives  us  of  De  Quincey's 

ter'  et  own  life  and  wanderings.  This  should  be  followed 
by  Suspiria  de  Profundis  (1845),  which  is  chiefly  a  record  of 
gloomy  and  terrible  dreams  produced  by  opiates.  The  most 
interesting  parts  of  his  Suspiria,  showing  De  Quincey's  mar- 
velous insight  into  dreams,  are  those  in  which  we  are  brought 
face  to  face  with  the  strange  feminine  creations  "  Levana," 
"  Madonna,"  "  Our  Lady  of  Sighs,"  and  "  Our  Lady  of  Dark- 
ness." A  series  of  nearly  thirty  articles  which  he  collected  in 
1853,  called  Autobiographic  Sketches,  completes  the  revelation 
of  the  author's  own  life.  Among  his  miscellaneous  works  may 
be  mentioned,  in  order  to  show  his  wide  range  of  subjects, 
Klosterheim,  a  novel,  Logic  of  Political  Economy,  the  Essays 
on  Style  and  Rhetoric,  Philosophy  of  Herodotus,  and  his  arti- 
cles on  Goethe,  Pope,  Schiller,  and  Shakespeare  which  he 
contributed  to  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica. 

De  Quincey's  style  is  a  revelation  of  the  beauty  of  the 
English  language,  and  it  profoundly  influenced  Ruskin  and 
The  style  of  other  prose  writers  of  the  Victorian  Age.  It  has  two 
De  Quincey  chief  faults,  —  diffuseness,  which  continually  leads 
De  Quincey  away  from  his  object,  and  triviality,  which  often 
makes  him  halt  in  the  midst  of  a  marvelous  paragraph  to 
make  some  light  jest  or  witticism  that  has  some  humor  but 
no  mirth  in  it.  Notwithstanding  these  faults,  De  Quincey's 
prose  is  still  among  the  few  supreme  examples  of  style  in  our 
language.  Though  he  was  profoundly  influenced  by  the  seven- 
teenth-century writers,  he  attempted  definitely  to  create  a 
new  style  which  should  combine  the  best  elements  of  prose 
and  poetry.  In  consequence,  his  prose  works  are  often,  like 
those  of  Milton,  more  imaginative  and  melodious  than  much 
of  our  poetry.  He  has  been  well  called  "  the  psychologist  of 
style,"  and  as  such  his  works  will  never  be  popular;  but  to 


436  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  few  who  can  appreciate  him  he  will  always  be  an  inspi- 
ration to  better  writing.  One  has  a  deeper  respect  for  our 
English  language  and  literature  after  reading  him. 

Secondary  Writers  of  Romanticism.  One  has  only  to  glance 
back  over  the  authors  we  have  been  studying  —  Wordsworth, 
Coleridge,  Southey,  Byron,  Shelley,  Keats,  Scott,  Lamb,  De 
Quincey  —  to  realize  the  great  change  which  swept  over 
the  life  and  literature  of  England  in  a  single  half  century, 
under  two  influences  which  we  now  know  as  the  French 
.Revolution  in  history  and  the  Romantic  Movement  in  litera- 
ture. In  life  men  had  rebelled  against  the  too  strict  authority 
of  state  and  society  ;  in  literature  they  rebelled  even  more 
vigorously  against  the  bonds  of  classicism,  which  had  sternly 
repressed  a  writer's  ambition  to  follow  his  own  ideals  and  to 
express  them  in  his  own  way.  Naturally  such  an  age  of  revo- 
lution was  essentially  poetic,  —  only  the  Elizabethan  Age  sur- 
passes it  in  this  respect,  —  and  it  produced  a  large  number  of 
minor  writers,  who  followed  more  or  less  closely  the  example 
of  its  great  leaders.  Among  novelists  we  have  Jane  Austen, 
Frances  Burney,  Maria  Edgeworth,  Jane  Porter,  and  Susan 
Ferrier,  —  all  women,  be  it  noted  ;  among  the  poets,  Campbell, 
Moore,  Hogg  ("  the  Ettrick  Shepherd  "),  Mrs.  Hemans,  Heber, 
Keble,  Hood,  and  "  Ingoldsby  "  (Richard  Barham) ;  and  among 
miscellaneous  writers,  Sidney  Smith,  "  Christopher  North " 
(John  Wilson),  Chalmers,  Lockhart,  Leigh  Hunt,  Hazlitt, 
Hallam,  and  Landor.  Here  is  an  astonishing  variety  of 
writers,  and  to  consider  all  their  claims  to  remembrance 
would  of  itself  require  a  volume.  Though  these  are  generally 
classed  as  secondary  writers,  much  of  their  work  has  claims 
to  popularity,  and  some  of  it  to  permanence.  Moore's  Irish 
Melodies,  Campbell's  lyrics,  Keble' s  Christian  Year,  and  Jane 
Porter's  Thaddens  of  Warsaw  and  Scottish  Chiefs  have  still 
a  multitude  of  readers,  where  Keats,  Lamb,  and  De  Quincey 
are  prized  only  by  the  cultured  few ;  and  Hallam' s  historical 
and  critical  works  are  perhaps  better  known  than  those  of 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  437 

Gibbon,  who  nevertheless  occupies  a  larger  place  in  our  litera- 
ture. Among  all  these  writers  we  choose  only  two,  Jane 
Austen  and  Walter  Savage  Landor,  whose  works  indicate  a 
period  of  transition  from  the  Romantic  to  the  Victorian  Age. 

JANE  AUSTEN  (1775-1817) 

We  have  so  lately  rediscovered  the  charm  and  genius  of 
this  gifted  young  woman  that  she  seems  to  be  a  novelist  of 
yesterday,  rather  than  the  contemporary  of  Wordsworth  and 
Coleridge  ;  and  few  even  of  her  readers  realize  that  she  did 
for  the  English  novel  precisely  what  the  Lake  poets  did  for 
English  poetry,  —  she  refined  and  simplified  it,  making  it 
a  true  reflection  of  English  life.  Like  the  Lake  poets,  she 
met  with  scanty  encouragement  in  her  own  generation.  Her 
greatest  novel,  Pride  and  Prejudice,  was  finished  in  1 797,  a 
year  before  the  appearance  of  the  famous  Lyrical  Ballads  of 
Wordsworth  and  Coleridge ;  but  while  the  latter  book  was 
published  and  found  a  few  appreciative  readers,  the  manu- 
script of  this  wonderful  novel  went  begging  for  sixteen  years 
before  it  found  a  publisher.  As  Wordsworth  began  with  the 
deliberate  purpose  of  making  poetry  natural  and  truthful,  so 
Miss  Austen  appears  to  have  begun  writing  with  the  idea  of 
presenting  the  life  of  English  country  society  exactly  as  it 
was,  in  opposition  to  the  romantic  extravagance  of  Mrs.  Rad- 
cliffe  and  her  school.  But  there  was  this  difference,  —  that 
Miss  Austen  had  in  large  measure  the  saving  gift  of  humor, 
which  Wordsworth  sadly  lacked.  Maria  Edgeworth,  at  the 
same  time,  set  a  sane  and  excellent  example  in  her  tales  of 
Irish  life,  The  Absentee  and  Castle  Rackrent;  and  Miss  Austen 
followed  up  the  advantage  with  at  least  six  works,  which  have 
grown  steadily  in  value  until  we  place  them  gladly  in  the  first 
rank  of  our  novels  of  common  life.  It  is  not  simply  for  her 
exquisite  charm,  therefore,  that  we  admire  her,  but  also  for 
her  influence  in  bringing  our  novels  back  to  their  true  place 
as  an  expression  of  human  life.  It  is  due  partly,  at  least,  to 


438  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

her  influence  that  a  multitude  of  readers  were  ready  to  appre- 
ciate Mrs.  Gaskell's  Cranford,  and  the  powerful  and  enduring 
work  of  George  Eliot. 

Life.  Jane  Austen's  life  gives  little  opportunity  for  the  biographer, 
unless,  perchance,  he  has  something  of  her  own  power  to  show  the 
beauty  and  charm  of  commonplace  things.  She  was  the  seventh 
child  of  Rev.  George  Austen,  rector  of  Steven  ton,  and  was  born  in 
the  parsonage  of  the  village  in  1775.  With  her  sisters  she  was  edu- 
cated at  home,  and  passed. her  life  very  quietly,  cheerfully,  in  the 
doing  of  small  domestic  duties,  to  which  love  lent  the  magic  lamp 
that  makes  all  things  beautiful.  She  began  to  write  at  an  early  age, 
and  seems  to  have  done  her  work  on  a  little  table  in  the  family  sit- 
ting room,  in  the  midst  of  the  family  life.  When  a  visitor  entered, 
she  would  throw  a  paper  or  a  piece  of  sewing  over  her  work,  and 
she  modestly  refused  to  be  known  as  the  author  of  novels  which  we 
now  count  among  our  treasured  possessions.  With  the  publishers 
she  had  little  success.  Pride  and  Prejudice  went  begging,  as  we 
have  said,  for  sixteen  years;  and  Northanger  Abbey  (1798)  was 
sold  for  a  trivial  sum  to  a  publisher,  who  laid  it  aside  and  forgot  it, 
until  the  appearance  and  moderate  success  of  Sense  and  Sensibility 
in  181 1.  Then,  after  keeping  the  manuscript  some  fifteen  years,  he 
sold  it  back  to  the  family,  who  found  another  publisher. 

An  anonymous  article  in  the  Qtiarterly  Review,  following  the 
appearance  of  Emma  in  1815,  full  of  generous  appreciation  of  the 
charm  of  the  new  writer,  was  the  beginning  of  Jane  Austen's  fame ; 
and  it  is  only  within  a  few  years  that  we  have  learned  that  the 
friendly  and  discerning  critic  was  Walter  Scott.  He  continued  to  be 
her  admirer  until  her  early  death  ;  but  these  two,  the  greatest  writers 
of  fiction  in  their  age,  were  never  brought  together.  Both  were 
home-loving  people,  and  Miss  Austen  especially  was  averse  to  pub- 
licity and  popularity.  She  died,  quietly  as  she  had  lived,  at  Win- 
chester, in  1817,  and  was  buried  in  the  cathedral.  She  was  a  bright, 
attractive  little  woman,  whose  sunny  qualities  are  unconsciously  re- 
flected in  all  her  books. 

Works.  Very  few  English  writers  ever  had  so  narrow  a 
field  of  work  as  Jane  Austen.  Like  the  French  novelists, 
whose  success  seems  to  lie  in  choosing  the  tiny  field  that 
they  know  best,  her  works  have  an  exquisite  perfection  that 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  439 

is  lacking  in  most  of  our  writers  of  fiction.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  an  occasional  visit  to  the  watering  place  of  Bath,  her 
whole  life  was  spent  in  small  country  parishes,  whose  simple 
country  people  became  the  characters  of  her  novels.  Her 
brothers  were  in  the  navy,  and  so  naval  officers  furnish  the 
only  exciting  elements  in  her  stories ;  but  even  these  alleged 
heroes  lay  aside  their  imposing  martial  ways  and  act  like  them- 
selves and  other  people.  Such  was  her  literary  field,  in  which 
the  chief  duties  were  of  the  household,  the  chief  pleasures  in 
country  gatherings,  and  the  chief  interests  in  matrimony. 
Life,  with  its  mighty  interests,  its  passions,  ambitions,  and 
tragic  struggles,  swept  by  like  a  great  river ;  while  the  se- 
cluded interests  of  a  country  parish  went  round  and  round 
quietly,  like  an  eddy  behind  a  sheltering  rock.  We  can  easily 
understand,  therefore,  the  limitations  of  Jane  Austen ;  but 
within  her  own  field  she  is  unequaled.  Her  characters  are 
absolutely  true  to  life,  and  all  her  work  has  the  perfection  of 
a  delicate  miniature  painting.  The  most  widely  read  of  her 
novels  is  Pride  and  Prejudice ;  but  three  others,  Sense  and 
Sensibility p,  Emma,  and  Mansfield  Park,  have  slowly  won 
their  way  to  the  front  rank  of  fiction.  From  a  literary  view 
point  Northanger  Abbey  is  perhaps  the  best ;  for  in  it  we  find 
that  touch  of  humor  and  delicate  satire  with  which  this  gentle 
little  woman  combated  the  grotesque  popular  novels  of  the 
Udolpho  type.  Reading  any  of  these  works,  one  is  inclined  to 
accept  the  hearty  indorsement  of  Sir  Walter  Scott :  "  That 
young  lady  has  a  talent  for  describing  the  involvements  and 
feelings  and  characters  of  ordinary  life  which  is  to  me  the 
most  wonderful  I  ever  met  with.  The  big  bowwow  strain  I 
can  do  myself,  like  any  now  going;  but  the  exquisite  touch 
which  renders  ordinary  commonplace  things  and  characters 
interesting  from  the  truth  of  the  description  and  the  senti- 
ment, is  denied  to  me.  What  a  pity  such  a  gifted  creature 
died  so  early  !  " 


440  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

WALTER  SAVAGE  LANDOR  (1775-1864) 

While  Hazlitt,  Lamb,  De  Quincey,  and  other  romantic  crit- 
ics went  back  to  early  English  literature  for  their  inspiration, 
Landor  shows  a  reaction  from  the  prevailing  Romanticism  by 
his  imitation  of  the  ancient  classic  writers.  His  life  was  an 
extraordinary  one  and,  like  his  work,  abounded  in  sharp  con- 
trasts. On  the  one  hand,  there  are  his  egoism,  his  uncontrol- 
lable anger,  his  perpetual  lawsuits,  and  the  last  sad  tragedy 
with  his  children,  which  suggests  King  Lear  and  his  daugh- 
ters ;  on  the  other  hand  there  is  his  steady  devotion  to  the 
classics  and  to  the  cultivation  of  the  deep  wisdom  of  the 
ancients,  which  suggests  Pindar  and  Cicero.  In  his  works  we 
find  the  wild  extravagance  of  Gebir,  followed  by  the  superb 
classic  style  and  charm  of  Pericles  and  Aspasia.  Such  was 
Landor,  a  man  of  high  ideals,  perpetually  at  war  with  himself 
and  the  world. 

Life.  Lander's  stormy  life  covers  the  whole  period  from  Words- 
worth's childhood  to  the  middle  of  the  Victorian  Era.  He  was  the 
son  of  a  physician,  and  was  born  at  Warwick,  in  1775.  From  his 
mother  he  inherited  a  fortune ;  but  it  was  soon  scattered  by  large 
expenditures  and  law  quarrels  ;  and  in  his  old  age,  refused  help  by 
his  own  children,  only  Browning's  generosity  kept  Landor  from 
actual  want.  At  Rugby,  and  at  Oxford,  his  extreme  Republican- 
ism brought  him  into  constant  trouble  ;  and  his  fitting  out  a  band 
of  volunteers  to  assist  the  Spaniards  against  Napoleon,  in  1808, 
allies  him  with  Byron  and  his  Quixotic  followers.  The  resemblance 
to  Byron  is  even  more  strikingly  shown  in  the  poem  Gebir,  pub- 
lished in  1798,  a  year  made  famous  by  the  Lyrical  Ballads  of 
Wordsworth  and  Coleridge. 

A  remarkable  change  in  Lander's  life  is  noticeable  in  1821,  when, 
at  forty-six  years  of  age,  after  having  lost  his  magnificent  estate  of 
Llanthony  Abbey,  in  Glamorganshire,  and  after  a  stormy  experience 
in  Como,  he  settled  down  for  a  time  at  Fiesole  near  Florence.  To 
this  period  of  calm  after  storm  we  owe  the  classical  prose  works  for 
which  he  is  famous.  The  calm,  like  that  at  the  center  of  a  whirl- 
wind, lasted  but  a  short  time,  and  Landor.  leaving  his  family  in 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  441 

great  anger,  returned  to  Bath,  where  he  lived  alone  for  more  than 
twenty  years.  Then,  in  order  to  escape  a  libel  suit,  the  choleric  old 
man  fled  back  to  Italy.  He  died  at  Florence,  in  1864.  The  spirit 
of  his  whole  life  may  be  inferred  from  the  defiant  farewell  which  he 
flung  to  it : 

I  strove  with  none,  for  none  was  worth  my  strife ; 

Nature  I  loved,  and  next  to  Nature  Art ; 
1  warmed  both  hands  before  the  fire  of  life ; 
It  sinks,  and  I  am  ready  to  depart. 

Works.  Lander's  reaction  from  Romanticism  is  all  the 
more  remarkable  in  view  of  his  early  efforts,  such  as  Gebir,  a 
wildly  romantic  poem,  which  rivals  any  work  of  Byron  or 
Shelley  in  its  extravagance.  Notwithstanding  its  occasional 
beautiful  and  suggestive  lines,  the  work  was  not  and  never 
has  been  successful ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  all  his 
poetical  works.  His  first  collection  of  poems  was  published 
in  1795,  his  last  a  full  half  century  later,  in  1846.  In  the 
latter  volume,  The  Hellenics,  —  which  included  some  transla- 
tions of  his  earlier  Latin  poems,  called  Idyllia  Heroicay  —  one 
has  only  to  read  "The  Hamadryad,"  and  compare  it  with  the 
lyrics  of  the  first  volume,  in  order  to  realize  the  astonishing 
literary  vigor  of  a  man  who  published  two  volumes,  a  half 
century  apart,  without  any  appreciable  diminution  of  poetical 
feeling.  In  all  these  poems  one  is  impressed  by  the  striking 
and  original  figures  of  speech  which  Landor  uses  to  emphasize 
his  meaning. 

It  is  by  his  prose  works,  largely,  that  Landor  has  won  a 
place  in  our  literature  ;  partly  because  of  their  intrinsic  worth, 
their  penetrating  thought,  and  severe  classic  style  ;  and  partly 
because  of  their  profound  influence  upon  the  writers  of  the 
present  age.  The  most  noted  of  his  prose  works  are  his  six 
volumes  of  Imaginary  Conversations  (1824-1846).  For  these 
conversations  Landor  brings  together,  sometimes  in  groups, 
sometimes  in  couples,  well-known  characters,  or  rather  shad- 
ows, from  the  four  corners  of  the  earth  and  from  the  remot- 
est ages  of  recorded  history.  Thus  Diogenes  talks  with  Plato, 


442  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

JEsop  with  a  young  slave  girl  in  Egypt,  Henry  VIII  with 
Anne  Boleyn  in  prison,  Dante  with  Beatrice,  Leofric  with 
Lady  Godiva, —  all  these  and  many  others,  from  Epictetus 
to  Cromwell,  are  brought  together  and  speak  of  life  and  love 
and  death,  each  from  his  own  view  point.  Occasionally,  as  in 
the  meeting  of  Henry  and  Anne  Boleyn,  the  situation  is  tense 
and  dramatic  ;  but  as  a  rule  the  characters  simply  meet  and 
converse  in  the  same  quiet  strain,  which  becomes,  after  much 
reading,  somewhat  monotonous.  On  the  other  hand,  one  who 
reads  the  Imaginary  Conversations  is  lifted  at  once  into  a 
calm  and  noble  atmosphere  which  braces  and  inspires  him, 
making  him  forget  petty  things,  like  a  view  from  a  hilltop. 
By  its  combination  of  lofty  thought  and  severely  classic  style 
the  book  has  won,  and  deserves,  a  very  high  place  among  our 
literary  records. 

The  same  criticism  applies  to  Pericles  and  Aspasia,  which 
is  a  series  of  imaginary  letters,  telling  the  experiences  of 
Aspasia,  a  young  lady  from  Asia  Minor,  who  visits  Athens 
at  the  summit  of  its  fame  and  glory,  in  the  great  age  of  Peri- 
cles. This  is,  in  our  judgment,  the  best  worth  reading  of  all 
Landor's  works.  One  gets  from  it  not  only  Lander's  classic 
style,  but  —  what  is  well  worth  while  —  a  better  picture  of 
Greece  in  the  days  of  its  greatness  than  can  be  obtained 
from  many  historical  volumes. 

Summary  of  the  Age  of  Romanticism.  This  period  extends  from  the  war 
•with  the  colonies,  following  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  in  1776,  to  the 
accession  of  Victoria  in  1837,  both  limits  being  very  indefinite,  as  will  be  seen 
by  a  glance  at  the  Chronology  following.  During  the  first  part  of  the  period 
especially,  England  was  in  a  continual  turmoil,  produced  by  political  and 
economic  agitation  at  home,  and  by  the  long  wars  that  covered  two  continents 
and  the  wide  sea  between  them.  The  mighty  changes  resulting  from  these 
two  causes  have  given  this  period  the  name  of  the  Age  of  Revolution.  The 
storm  center  of  all  the  turmoil  at  home  and  abroad  was  the  French  Revolu- 
tion, which  had  a  profound  influence  on  the  life  and  literature  of  all  Europe. 
On  the  Continent  the  overthrow  of  Napoleon  at  Waterloo  (1815)  apparently 
checked  the  progress  of  liberty,  which  had  started  with  the  French  Revolution,1 

1  See  histories  for  the  Congress  of  Vienna  (1814)  and  the  Holy  Alliance  (1815). 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  443 

but  in  England  the  case  was  reversed.  The  agitation  for  popular  liberty,  which 
at  one  time  threatened  a  revolution,  went  steadily  forward  till  it  resulted  in 
the  final  triumph  of  democracy,  in  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832,  and  in  a  number 
of  exceedingly  important  reforms,  such  as  the  extension  of  manhood  suffrage, 
the  removal  of  the  last  unjust  restrictions  against  Catholics,  the  establishment 
of  a  national  system  of  schools,  followed  by  a  rapid  increase  in  popular  educa- 
tion, and  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  all  English  colonies  (1833).  To  tn^s  we 
must  add  the  changes  produced  by  the  discovery  of  steam  and  the  invention 
of  machinery,  which  rapidly  changed  England  from  an  agricultural  to  a  manu- 
facturing nation,  introduced  the  factory  system,  and  caused  this  period  to  be 
known  as  the  Age  of  Industrial  Revolution. 

The  literature  of  the  age  is  largely  poetical  in  form,  and  almost  entirely 
romantic  in  spirit.  For,  as  we  have  noted,  the  triumph  of  democracy  in  gov- 
ernment is  generally  accompanied  by  the  triumph  of  romanticism  in  literature. 
At  first  the  literature,  as  shown  especially  in  the  early  work  of  Wordsworth, 
Byron,  and  Shelley,  reflected  the  turmoil  of  the  age  and  the  wild  hopes  of  an 
ideal  democracy  occasioned  by  the  French  Revolution.  Later  the  extravagant 
enthusiasm  subsided,  and  English  writers  produced  so  much  excellent  litera- 
ture that  the  age  is  often  called  the  Second  Creative  period,  the  first  being 
the  Age  of  Elizabeth.  The  six  chief  characteristics  of  the  age  are  :  the  preva- 
lence of  romantic  poetry ;  the  creation  of  the  historical  novel  by  Scott ;  the 
first  appearance  of  women  novelists,  such  as  Mrs.  Anne  Radcliffe,  Jane  Porter, 
Maria  Edgeworth,  and  Jane  Austen ;  the  development  of  literary  criticism,  in 
the  work  of  Lamb,  De  Quincey,  Coleridge,  and  Hazlitt ;  the  practical  and 
economic  bent  of  philosophy,  as  shown  in  the  work  of  Malthus,  James  Mill, 
and  Adam  Smith ;  and  the  establishment  of  great  literary  magazines,  like 
the  Edinburgh  Review,  the  Quarterly,  Blackwood^s,  and  the  Athenceum, 

In  our  study  we  have  noted  (i)  the  Poets  of  Romanticism  :  the  impor- 
tance of  the  Lyrical  Ballads  of  1798;  the  life  and  work  of  Wordsworth, 
Coleridge,  Scott,  Byron,  Shelley,  and  Keats ;  (2)  the  Prose  Writers  :  the 
novels  of  Scott ;  the  development  of  literary  criticism ;  the  life  and  work  of 
the  essayists,  Lamb,  De  Quincey,  Landor,  and  of  the  novelist  Jane  Austen. 

Selections  for  Reading.  Manly's  English  Poetry  and  Manly's  English 
Prose  (each  one  vol.)  contain  good  selections  from  all  authors  studied. 
Ward's  English  Poets  (4  vols.),  Craik's  English  Prose  Selections  (5  vols.), 
Braithwaite's  The  Book  of  Georgian  Verse,  Page's  British  Poets  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century,  and  Garnett's  English  Prose  from  Elizabeth  to  Victoria,  may 
also  be  used  to  advantage.  Important  works,  however,  should  be  read  entire 
in  one  of  the  inexpensive  school  editions  given  below.  (Full  titles  and  pub- 
lishers may  be  found  in  the  General  Bibliography  at  the  end  of  this  book.) 

Wordsworth.  Intimations  of  Immortality,  Tintern  Abbey,  best  lyrics  and 
sonnets,  in  Selections,  edited  by  Dowden  (Athenaeum  Press  Series) ;  selections 
and  short  poems,  edited  by  M.  Arnold,  in  Golden  Treasury  Series  ;  Selections, 
also  in  Everyman's  Library,  Riverside  Literature  Series,  Cassell's  National 
Library,  etc. 


444  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Coleridge.  Ancient  Mariner,  edited  by  L.  R.  Gibbs,  in  Standard  English 
Classics ;  same  poem,  in  Pocket  Classics,  Eclectic  English  Classics,  etc. ; 
Poems,  edited  by  J.  M.  Hart,  in  Athenaeum  Press  (announced,  1909) ;  Selec- 
tions, Golden  Book  of  Coleridge,  in  Everyman's  Library ;  Selections  from 
Coleridge  and  Campbell,  in  Riverside  Literature ;  Prose  Selections  (Ginn  and 
Company,  also  Holt) ;  Lectures  on  Shakespeare,  in  Everyman's  Library, 
Bonn's  Standard  Library,  etc. 

Scott.  Lady  of  the  Lake,  Marmion,  Ivanhoe,  The  Talisman,  Guy  Manner- 
ing,  Quentin  Durward.  Numerous  inexpensive  editions  of  Scott's  best  poems 
and  novels  in  Standard  English  Classics,  Pocket  Classics,  Cassell's  National 
Library,  Eclectic  English  Classics,  Everyman's  Library,  etc. ;  thus,  Lady  of 
the  Lake,  edited  by  Edwin  Ginn,  and  Ivanhoe,  edited  by  W.  D.  Lewis,  both 
in  Standard  English  Classics ;  Marmion,  edited  by  G.  B.  Acton,  and  The 
Talisman,  edited  by  F.  Treudly,  in  Pocket  Classics,  etc. 

Byron.  Mazeppa  and  The  Prisoner  of  Chillon,  edited  by  S.  M.  Tucker,  in 
Standard  English  Classics ;  short  poems,  Selections  from  Childe  Harold,  etc., 
in  Canterbury  Poets,  Riverside  Literature,  Holt's  English  Readings,  Pocket 
Classics,  etc. 

Shelley.  To  a  Cloud,  To  a  Skylark,  West  Wind,  Sensitive  Plant,  Adonais, 
etc.,  all  in  Selections  from  Shelley,  edited  by  Alexander,  in  Athenaeum  Press 
Series ;  Selections,  edited  by  Woodberry,  in  Belles  Lettres  Series ;  Selections, 
also  in  Pocket  Classics,  Heath's  English  Classics,  Golden  Treasury  Series,  etc. 

Keats.  Ode  on  a  Grecian  Urn,  Eve  of  St.  Agnes,  Hyperion,  Lamia,  To  a 
Nightingale,  etc.,  in  Selections  from  Keats,  in  Athenaeum  Press ;  Selections 
also  in  Muses'  Library,  Riverside  Literature,  Golden  Treasury  Series,  etc. 

Lamb.  Essays :  Dream  Children,  Old  China,  Dissertation  on  Roast  Pig, 
etc.,  edited  by  Wauchope,  in  Standard  English  Classics ;  various  essays  also 
in  Camelot  Series,  Temple  Classics,  Everyman's  Library,  etc.  Tales  from 
Shakespeare,  in  Home  and  School  Library  (Ginn  and  Company) ;  also  in 
Riverside  Literature,  Pocket  Classics,  Golden  Treasury,  etc. 

De  Quincey.  The  English  Mail-Coach  and  Joan  of  Arc,  in  Standard  English 
Classics,  etc. ;  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium-Eater,  in  Temple  Classics, 
Morley's  Universal  Library,  Everyman's  Library,  Pocket  Classics,  etc. ;  Selec- 
tions, edited  by  M.  H-  Turk,  in  Athenaeum  Press  ;  Selections,  edited  by 
B.  Perry  (Holt). 

Landor.    Selections,  edited  by  W.  Clymer,  in  Athenaeum  Press ;  Pericles 

and  Aspasia,  in  Camelot  Series ;  Imaginary  Conversations,  selected  (Ginn'and 

Company) ;  the  same,  2  vols.,  in  Dutton's  Universal  Library ;  selected  poems, 

in  Canterbury  Poets ;  selections,  prose  and  verse,  in  Golden  Treasury  Series. 

Jane  Austen.  Pride  and  Prejudice,  in  Everyman's  Library,  Pocket  Classics,  etc. 

Bibliography.1  History.  Text-book,  Montgomery,  pp.  323-357 ;  Cheyney, 
576-632.  General  Works.  Green,  X,  2-4,  Traill,  Gardiner,  Macaulay,  etc. 
Special  Works.  Cheyney's  Industrial  and  Social  History  of  England ;  Warner's 

1  For  full  titles  and  publishers  of  general  reference  books,  see  General  Bibliography 
at  end  of  this  book. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  445 

Landmarks  of  English  Industrial  History ;  Hassall's  Making  of  the  British 
Empire ;  Macaulay's  William  Pitt ;  Trevelyan's  Early  Life  of  Charles  James 
Fox ;  Morley's  Edmund  Burke ;  Morris's  Age  of  Queen  Anne  and  the  Early 
Hanoverians. 

Literature.  General  Works.  Mitchell,  Courthope,  Garnett  and  Gosse,  Taine 
(see  General  Bibliography).  Special  Works.  Beers's  English  Romanticism  in 
the  Nineteenth  Century;  A.  Symons's  The  Romantic  Movement  in  English 
Poetry ;  Dowden's  The  French  Revolution  and  English  Literature,  also 
Studies  in  Literature,  1789-1877;  Hancock's  The  French  Revolution  and 
the  English  Poets ;  Herford's  The  Age  of  Wordsworth  (Handbooks  of  Eng- 
lish Literature)  ;  Mrs.  Oliphant's  Literary  History  of  England  in  the  End  of 
the  Eighteenth  and  Beginning  of  the  Nineteenth  Centuries ;  Saintsbury's 
History  of  Nineteenth  Century  Literature;  Masson's  Wordsworth,  Shelley, 
Keats,  and  Other  Essays ;  Poets  and  Poetry  of  the  Nineteenth  Century, 
vols.  1-3;  Gates's  Studies  and  Appreciations;  S.  Brooke's  Studies  in  Poetry; 
Rawnsley's  Literary  Associations  of  the  English  Lakes  (2  vols.). 

Wordsworth.  Texts :  Globe,  Aldine,  Cambridge  editions,  etc. ;  Poetical 
and  Prose  Works,  with  Dorothy  Wordsworth's  Journal,  edited  by  Knight, 
Eversley  Edition  (London  and  New  York,  1896) ;  Letters  of  the  Wordsworth 
Family,  edited  by  Knight,  3  vols.  (Ginn  and  Company) ;  Poetical  Selections, 
edited  by  Dowden,  in  Athenaeum  Press  ;  various  other  selections,  in  Golden 
Treasury,  etc. ;  Prose  Selections,  edited  by  Gayley  (Ginn  and  Company).  Life : 
Memoirs,  2  vols.,  by  Christopher  Wordsworth ;  by  Knight,  3  vols. ;  by  Myers 
(English  Men  of  Letters) ;  by  Elizabeth  Wordsworth ;  Early  Life  (a  Study 
of  the  Prelude)  by  E.  Legouis,  translated  by  J.  Matthews ;  Raleigh's  Words- 
worth ;  N.  C.  Smith's  Wordsworth's  Literary  Criticism ;  Rannie's  Wordsworth 
and  His  Circle.  Criticism :  Herford's  The  Age  of  Wordsworth ;  Masson's 
Wordsworth,  Shelley,  and  Keats  ;  Magnus's  Primer  of  Wordsworth  ;  Wilson's 
Helps  to  the  Study  of  Arnold's  Wordsworth ;  Essays,  by  Lowell,  in  Among 
My  Books ;  by  M.  Arnold,  in  Essays  in  Criticism ;  by  Hutton,  in  Literary 
Essays  ;  by  L.  Stephen,  in  Hours  in  a  Library,  and  in  Studies  of  a  Biographer ; 
by  Bagehot,  in  Literary  Studies;  by  Hazlitt,  in  The  Spirit  of  the  Age;  by 
Pater,  in  Appreciations ;  by  De  Quincey,  in  Essays  on  the  Poets ;  by  Fields, 
in  Yesterdays  with  Authors ;  by  Shairp,  in  Studies  in  Poetry  and  Philosophy. 
See  also  Knight's  Through  the  WTordsworth  Country,  and  Rawnsley's  Literary 
Associations  of  the  English  Lakes. 

Coleridge.  Texts :  Complete  Works,  edited  by  Shedd,  7  vols.  (New  York, 
1884);  Poems,  Globe,  Aldine,  and  Cambridge  editions,  in  Athenaeum  Press 
(announced,  1909),  Muses'  Library,  Canterbury  Poets,  etc. ;  Biographia  Liter- 
aria,  in  Everyman's  Library ;  the  same,  in  Clarendon  Press ;  Prose  Selections, 
Lectures  on  Shakespeare,  etc.  (see  Selections  for  Reading,  above) ;  Letters, 
edited  by  E.  H.  Coleridge  (London,  1895),  Life:  by  J.  D.  Campbell;  by 
Traill  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  by  Dykes ;  by  Hall  Caine  (Great  Writers 
Series) ;  see  also  Coleridge's  Biographia  Literaria,  and  Lamb's  essay,  Christ's 
Hospital,  in  Essays  of  Elia.  Criticism :  Brandl's  Coleridge  and  the  English 
Romantic  Movement.  Essays,  by  Shairp,  in  Studies  in  Poetry  and  Philosophy ; 


446  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

by  Woodberry,  in  Makers  of  Literature ;  by  J.  Forster,  in  Great  Teachers ; 
by  Dowden,  in  New  Studies  ;  by  Swinburne,  in  Essays  and  Studies  ;  by  Brooke, 
in  Theology  in  the  English  Poets  ;  by  Saintsbury,  in  Essays  in  English  Litera- 
ture ;  by  Lowell  in  Democracy  and  Other  Essays ;  by  Hazlitt,  and  by  Pater 
(see  Wordsworth,  above).  See  also  Beers's  English  Romanticism;  Carlyle's 
chapter  on  Coleridge,  in  Life  of  John  Sterling. 

Southey.  Texts :  Poems,  edited  by  Dowden  (Macmillan) ;  Poetical  Works 
(Crowell) ;  Selections  in  Canterbury  Poets ;  Life  of  Nelson,  in  Everyman's 
Library,  Temple  Classics,  Morley's  Universal  Library,  etc.  Life  :  by  Dowden 
(English  Men  of  Letters).  Essays,  by  L.  Stephen,  in  Studies  of  a  Biographer ; 
by  Hazlitt  and  Saintsbury  (see  above). 

Scott.  Texts :  Numerous  good  editions  of  novels  and  poems.  For  single 
works,  see  Selections  for  Reading,  above.  Life :  by  Lockhart,  5  vols.  (several 
editions;  best  by  Pollard,  1900);  by  Hutton  (English  Men  of  Letters);  by 
A.  Lang,  in  Literary  Lives ;  by  C.  D.  Yonge  (Great  Writers) ;  by  Hudson ; 
by  Saintsbury  (Famous  Scots  Series).  Criticism  :  Essays,  by  Stevenson,  Gossip 
on  Romance,  in  Memories  and  Portraits;  by  Shairp,  in  Aspects  of  Poetry;  by 
Swinburne,  in  Studies  in  Prose  and  Poetry;  by  Carlyle,  in  Miscellaneous 
Essays ;  by  Hazlitt,  Bagehot,  L.  Stephen,  Brooke,  and  Saintsbury  (see  Cole- 
ridge and  Wordsworth,  above). 

Byron.  Texts  :  Complete  Works,  Globe,  Cambridge  Poets,  and  Oxford 
editions  ;  Selections,  edited  by  M.  Arnold,  in  Golden  Treasury  (see  also  Selec- 
tions for  Reading,  above) ;  Letters  and  Journals  of  Byron,  edited  by  Moore 
(unreliable).  Life :  by  Noel  (Great  Writers) ;  by  Nichol  (English  Men  of 
Letters) ;  The  Real  Lord  Byron,  by  J.  C.  Jeaff  reson  ;  Trelawny's  Recollections 
of  Shelley  and  Byron.  Criticism :  Hunt's  Lord  Byron  and  His  Contempo- 
raries ;  Essays,  by  Morley,  Macaulay,  Hazlitt,  Swinburne,  and  M.  Arnold. 

Shelley.  Texts  :  Centenary  Edition,  edited  by  Woodberry,  4  vols. ;  Globe 
and  Cambridge  Poets  editions ;  Essays  and  Letters,  in  Camelot  Series  (see 
Selections  for  Reading,  above).  Life  :  by  Symonds  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  by 
Dowden,  2  vols. ;  by  Sharp  (Great  Writers) ;  by  T.  J.  Hogg,  2  vols. ;  by  W.  M. 
Rossetti.  Criticism  :  Salt's  A  Shelley  Primer ;  Essays,  by  Dowden,  in  Tran- 
scripts and  Studies;  by  M.  Arnold,  Woodberry,  Bagehot,  Forster,  L.  Stephen, 
Brooke,  De  Quincey,  and  Hutton  (see  Coleridge  and  Wordsworth,  above). 

Keats.  Texts :  Complete  Works,  edited  by  Forman,  4  vols.  (London,  1883) ; 
Cambridge  Poets  Edition,  with  Letters,  edited  by  H.  E.  Scudder  (Houghton, 
Mifflin) ;  Aldine  Edition,  with  Life,  edited  by  Lord  Houghton  (Macmillan) , 
Selected  Poems,  with  introduction  and  notes  by  Arlo  Bates  (Ginn  and  Com- 
pany) ;  Poems,  also  in  Everyman's  Library,  Muses'  Library,  Golden  Treasury, 
etc. ;  Letters,  edited  by  S.  Colvin,  in  Eversley  Edition.  Life :  by  Forman,  in 
Complete  Works ;  by  Colvin  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  by  W.  M.  Rossetti 
(Great  Writers) ;  by  A.  E.  Hancock.  Criticism :  H.  C.  Shelley's  Keats  and 
His  Circle ;  Masson's  Wordsworth,  Shelley,  Keats,  and  Other  Essays ;  Essays, 
by  M.  Arnold,  in  Essays  in  Criticism,  also  in  Ward's  English  Poets,  vol.  4 ;  by 
Hudson,  in  Studies  in  Interpretation  ;  by  Lowell,  in  Among  My  Books,  or 
Literary  Essays,  vol.  2 ;  by  Brooke,  De  Quincey,  and  Swinburne  (above). 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  447 

Lamb.  Texts  :  Complete  Works  and  Letters,  edited  by  E.  V.  Lucas,  7  vols. 
(Putnam);  the  same,  edited  by  Ainger,  6  vols.  (London,  1883-1888);  Essays 
of  Elia,  in  Standard  English  Classics,  etc.  (see  Selections  for  Reading)  ;  Dra- 
matic Essays,  edited  by  B.  Matthews  (Dodd,  Mead) ;  Specimens  of  English 
Dramatic  Poets,  in  Bohn's  Library.  Life :  by  E.  V.  Lucas,  2  vols. ;  by  Ainger 
(English  Men  of  Letters) ;  by  Barry  Cornwall ;  Talfourd's  Memoirs  of  Charles 
Lamb.  Criticism :  Essays,  by  De  Quincey,  in  Biographical  Essays  ;  by  F.  Har- 
rison, in  Tennyson,  Ruskin,  Mill,  and  Other  Literary  Estimates ;  by  Pater, 
and  Woodberry  (see  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge,  above).  See  also  Fitzgerald's 
Charles  Lamb,  his  Friends,  his  Haunts,  and  his  Books. 

De  Quincey.  Texts:  Collected  Writings,  edited  by  Masson,  14  vols.  (Lon- 
don, 1889-1891) ;  Confessions  of  an  Opium-Eater,  etc.  (see  Selections  for 
Reading).  Life  :  by  Masson  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  Life  and  Writings,  by 
H.  A.  Page,  2  vols. ;  Hogg's  De  Quincey  and  his  Friends  ;  Findlay's  Personal 
Recollections  of  De  Quincey;  see  also  De  Quincey's  Autobiographical 
Sketches,  and  Confessions.  Criticism:  Essays,  by  Saintsbury,  in  Essays  in 
English  Literature ;  by  Masson,  in  Wordsworth,  Shelley,  Keats,  and  Other 
Essays ;  by  L.  Stephen,  in  Hours  in  a  Library.  See  also  Minto's  Manual  of 
English  Prose  Literature. 

Landor.  Texts:  Works,  with  Life  by  Forster,  8  vols.  (London,  1876); 
Works,  edited  by  Crump  (London,  1897) ;  Letters,  etc.,  edited  by  Wheeler 
(London,  1897  and  1899) ;  Imaginary  Conversations,  etc.  (see  Selections  for 
Reading).  Life  :  by  Colvin  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  by  ForsVer.  Criticism: 
Essays,  by  De  Quincey,  Woodberry,  L.  Stephen,  Saintsbury,  Swinburne,  Dow- 
den  (see  above).  See  also  Stedman's  Victorian  Poets. 

Jane  Austen.  Texts :  Works,  edited  by  R.  B.  Johnson  (Dent) ;  various 
other  editions  of  novels  ;  Letters,  edited  by  Woolsey  (Roberts).  Life  :  Austen- 
Leigh's  Memoir  of  Jane  Austen  ;  Hill's  Jane  Austen,  her  Home  and  her 
Friends ;  Mitton's  Jane  Austen  and  her  Times.  Life,  by  Goldwin  Smith ;  by 
Maiden  (Famous  Women  Series);  by  O.  F.  Adams.  Criticism:  Pollock's 
Jane  Austen ;  Pellew's  Jane  Austen's  Novels ;  A.  A.  Jack's  Essay  on  the 
Novel  as  Illustrated  by  Scott  and  Miss  Austen ;  H.  H.  BonnelPs  Charlotte 
Bronte,  George  Eliot,  and  Jane  Austen ;  Essay,  by  Howells,  in  Heroines 
of  Fiction. 

Maria  Edgeworth.  Texts  :  Tales  and  Novels,  New  Langford  Edition,  10 
vols.  (London,  1893) ;  various  editions  of  novels  (Dent,  etc.) ;  The  Absentee, 
and  Castle  Rackrent,  in  Morley's  Universal  Library.  Life :  by  Helen  Zimmer- 
man ;  Memoir,  by  Hare. 

Mrs.  Anne  Radcliffe.  Romances,  with  introduction  by  Scott,  in  Ballantynes' 
Novelists  Library  (London,  1824) ;  various  editions  of  Udolpho,  etc. ;  Saints- 
bury's  Tales  of  Mystery,  vol.  i.  See  Beers's  English  Romanticism. 

Moore.  Poetical  Works,  in  Canterbury  Poets,  Chandos  Classics,  etc.; 
Selected  poems,  in  Golden  Treasury;  Gunning's  Thomas  Moore,  Poet  and 
Patriot ;  Symington's  Life  and  Works  of  Moore.  Essay,  by  Saintsbury. 

Campbell.  Poems,  Aldine  edition ;  Selections,  in  Golden  Treasury.  Life, 
by  Hadden. 


448  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Hazlitt.  Texts  :  Works,  edited  by  Henley,  12  vols.  (London,  1902) ;  Selected 
Essays,  in  Temple  Classics,  Camelot  Series,  etc.  Life  :  by  Birrell  (English 
Men  of  Letters);  Memoirs,  by  W.  C.  Hazlitt.  Essays,  by  Saintsbury;  by 
L.  Stephen. 

Leigh  Hunt.  Texts:  Selected  essays,  in  Camelot  Series,  also  in  Cavendish 
Library  (Warne) ;  Stories  from  the  Italian  Poets  (Putnam).  Life":  by  Monk- 
house  (Great  Writers).  Essays,  by  Macaulay;  by  Saintsbury;  by  Hazlitt. 
See  also  Mrs.  Field's  A  Shelf  of  Old  Books. 

Suggestive  Questions.  (NOTE.  In  a  period  like  the  Age  of  Romanticism, 
the  poems  and  essays  chosen  for  special  study  vary  so  widely  that  only  a  few 
general  questions  on  the  selections  for  reading  are  attempted.) 

1.  Why  is  this  period  of  Romanticism  (1789-1837)  called  the  Age  of  Revo- 
lution ?    Give  some  reasons  for  the  influence  of  the  French  Revolution  on 
English  literature,  and  illustrate  from  poems  or  essays  which  you  have  read. 
Explain  the  difference  between  Classicism  and  Romanticism.    Which  of  these 
two  types  of  literature  do  you  prefer  ? 

2.  What  are  the  general  characteristics  of  the  literature  of  this  period  ? 
What  two  opposing  tendencies  are  illustrated  in  the  novels  of  Scott  and  Jane 
Austen  ?  in  the  poetry  of  Byron  and  Wordsworth  ? 

3.  Wordsworth.    Tell  briefly  the  story  of  Wordsworth's  life,  and  name 
some  of  his  best  poems.    Why  do  the  Lyrical  Ballads  (1798)  mark  an  impor- 
tant literary  epoch  ?    Read  carefully,  and  make  an  analysis  of  the  "  Intimations 
of  Immortality  " ;  of  "  Tintern  Abbey."    Can  you  explain  what  political  con- 
ditions are  referred  to  in  Wordsworth's  "  Sonnet  on  Milton  "  ?  in  his  "  French 
Revolution "  ?    Does  he  attempt  to  paint  a  picture  in  his  sonnet  on  West- 
minster Bridge,  or  has  he  some  other  object  in  view  ?    What  is  the  central 
teaching  of  the  "  Ode  to  Duty  "  ?    Compare  Wordsworth's  two  Skylark  poems 
with  Shelley's,  j  Make  a  brief  comparison  between  Wordsworth's  sonnets  and 
those  of  Shakespeare  and  of  Milton,  having  in  mind  the  thought,  the  melody, 
the  view  of  nature,  and  the  imagery  of  the  three  poets.    Quote  from  Words- 
worth's poems  to  show  his  belief  that  nature  is  conscious ;  to  show  the  influ- 
ence of  nature  on  man ;  to  show  his  interest  in  children ;  his  sensitiveness  to 
sounds ;  to  illustrate  the  chastening  influence  of  sorrow.    Make  a  brief  com- 
parison between  the  characters  of  Wordsworth's  "  Michael "  and  of  Burns's 
"  The  Cotter's  Saturday  Night."    Compare  Wordsworth's  point  of  view  and 
method,  in  the  three  poems  "  To  a  Daisy,"  with  Burns's  view,  as  expressed  in 
his  famous  lines  on  the  same  subject. 

4.  Coleridge.    What   are   the   general  characteristics   of   Coleridge's  life  ? 
What  explains  the  profound  sympathy  for  humanity  that  is  reflected  in  his 
poems  ?    For  what,  beside  his  poems,  is  he  remarkable  ?    Can  you  quote  any 
passages  from  his  poetry  which  show  the  influence  of  Wordsworth  ?    What 
are  the  characters  in  "  The  Ancient  Mariner  "  ?   In  what  respect  is  this  poem 
romantic  ?   Give  your  own'reasons  for  its  popularity.   Does  the  thought  or  the 
style  of  this  poem  impress  you  ?     If  you  have  read  any  of  the  Lectures  on 
Shakespeare,  explain  why  Coleridge's  work  is  called  romantic  criticism. 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM  449 

5.  Scott.   Tell  the  story  of  Scott's  life,  and  name  his  chief  poems  and 
novels.    Do  you  recall  any  passage  from  his  poetry  which  suggests  his  own 
heroism  ?    Why  was  he  called  "  the  wizard  of  the  North  "  ?    What  is  the  gen- 
eral character  of  his  poetry  ?    Compare  Marmion  with  one  of  the  old  ballads, 
having  in  mind  the  characters,  the  dramatic  interest  of  the  story,  and  the  style 
of  writing.    In  what  sense  is  he  the  creator  of  the  historical  novel?    Upon 
what  does  he  depend  to  hold  the  reader's  attention  ?    Compare  him,  in  this 
respect,  with  Jane  Austen.    Which  of  his  characters  impress  you  as  being  the 
most  lifelike  ?    Name  any  novels  of  the  present  day  which  copy  Scott  or  show 
his  influence.    Read  Ivanhoe  and  the  Lady  of  the  Lake;  make  a  brief  analysis 
of  each  work,  having  in  mind  the  style,  the  plot,  the  dramatic  interest,  the  use 
of  adventure,  and  the  truth  to  nature  of  the  different  characters. 

6.  Byron.    Why  is   Byron  called  the    revolutionary  poet  ?    (Illustrate,   if 
possible,  from  his  poetry.)    What  is  the  general  character  of  his  work  ?    In 
what  kind  of  poetry  does  he  excel  ?    (Quote  from  Childe  Harold  to  illustrate 
your  opinion.)    Describe  the  typical  Byronic  hero.    Can  you  explain  his  great 
popularity  at  first,  and  his  subsequent  loss  of  influence  ?    Why  is  he  still 
popular  on  the  Continent  ?    Do  you  find  more  of  thought  or  of  emotion  in  his 
poetry  ?     Compare    him,   in    this   respect,  with   Shelley ;    with   Wordsworth. 
Which  is  the  more  brilliant  writer,  Byron  or  Wordsworth?  Which  has  the 
more  humor  ?    Which  has  the  healthier  mind  ?  Which  has  the  higher  ideal  of 
poetry  ?  Which  is  the  more  inspiring  and  helpful  ?    Is  it  fair  to  say  that  Byron's 
quality  is  power,  not  charm  ? 

7.  Shelley.  What  are  the  chief  characteristics  of  Shelley's  poetry  ?  Is  it  most 
remarkable  for  its  thought,  form,  or  imagery?    What  poems  show  the  influ- 
ence of  the  French   Revolution  ?    What  subjects  are  considered  in  "  Lines 
written  among  the  Euganean  Hills"?    What  does  Shelley  try  to  teach  in 
"  The  Sensitive   Plant "  ?    Compare  Shelley's  view  of  nature,  as  reflected  in 
"  The  Cloud "  or  "  The  West  Wind,"  with  Wordsworth's  view,  as  reflected 
in  "The  Prelude,"  "Tintern  Abbey,"  "Daffodils,"  etc.    To  what  class  of 
poems  does  "  Adonais  "  belong  ?    What  is  the  subject  of  the  poem  ?    Name 
others  of  the  same  class.    How  does  Shelley  describe  himself  in  this  poem  ? 
Compare  Shelley's  "Adonais"  and  Milton's  "  Lycidas  "  with  regard  to  the 
view  of  life  after  death  as  expressed  in  the  poems.    What  kinds  of  scenes 
does  Shelley  like  best  to  describe?    Compare  his  characters  with  those  of 
Wordsworth ;  of  Byron.    Do  you  recall  any  poems  in  which  he  writes  of  ordi- 
nary people  or  of  ordinary  experiences  ? 

8.  Keats.   What  is  the  essence  of  Keats's  poetical  creed,  as  expressed  in 
the  "  Ode  on  a  Grecian  Urn  "  ?    What  are  the  remarkable  elements  in  his  life 
and  work  ?    What  striking  difference  do  you  find  between  his  early  poems  and 
those  of  Shelley  and  Byron  ?    What  are  the  chief  subjects  of  his  verse  ?    What 
poems  show  the  influence  of  the  classics?    of  Elizabethan  literature?    Can 
you  explain  why  his  work  has  been  called  literary  poetry  ?    Keats  and  Shelley 
are  generally  classed  together.    What  similarities  do  you  find  in  their  poems  ? 
Give  some  reasons  why  Keats  introduces  the  old  Bedesman  in  "  The  Eve  of 
Saint  Agnes."   Name  some  of  the  literary  friends  mentioned  in  Keats's  poetry. 


450  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Compare  Keats's  characters  with  those  of  Wordsworth  ;  of  Byron.  Does  Keats 
ever  remind  you  of  Spenser  ?  In  what  respects  ?  Is  your  personal  preference 
for  Wordsworth,  Byron,  Shelley,  or  Keats  ?  Why  ? 

9.  Lamb.    Tell  briefly  the  story  of  Lamb's   life   and  name   his  principal 
works.     Why  is  he  called  the  most  human  of  essayists  ?    His  friends  called 
him  "  the  last  of  the  Elizabethans."  Why  ?    What  is  the  general  character  of 
the  Essays  of  Elia  ?    How  is  the  personality  of  Lamb  shown  in  all  these 
'essays  ?    Cite  any  passages  showing  Lamb's  skill  in  portraying  people.    Make 
a  brief  comparison  between  Lamb  and  Addison,  having  in  mind  the  subjects 
treated,  the  style,  the  humor,  and  the  interest  of  both  essayists.    Which  do 
you  prefer,  and  why  ? 

10.  De  Qiiincey.    What   are  the  general  characteristics   of  De   Quincey's 
essays  ?    Explain  why  he  is  called  the  psychologist  of  style.    What  accounts 
for  a  certain  unreal  element  in  all  his  work.    Read  a  passage  from  The  English 
Mail-Coach,  or  f rom  Joan  of  Arc,  or  from  Levana,  Our  Lady  of  Sorrows,  and 
comment  freely  upon  it,  with  regard  to  style,  ideas,  interest,  and  the  impres- 
sion of  reality  or  unreality  which  it  leaves. 

11.  Landor.    In  what  respect  does  Landor  show  a  reaction  from  Romanti- 
cism ?     What  qualities  make  Landor's  poems  stand  out   so   clearly  in  the 
memory  ?    Why,  for  instance,  do  you  think  Lamb  was  so  haunted  by  "  Rose 
Aylmer  "  ?    Quote  from  Landor's  poems  to  illustrate  his  tenderness,  his  sensi- 
tiveness to  beauty,  his  power  of  awakening  emotion,  his  delicacy  of  charac- 
terization.   Do  you  find  the  same  qualities  in  his  prose  ?    Can  you  explain 
why  much  of  his  prose  seems  like  a  translation  from  the  Greek  ?    Compare  a 
passage  from  the  Imaginary   Conversations  with  a  passage  from  Gibbon  or 
Johnson,  to  show  the  difference  between  the  classic  and  the  pseudo-classic 
style.    Compare  one  of  Landor's  characters,  in  Imaginary  Conversations,  with 
the  same  character  in  history. 

12.  Jane  Austen.    How  does  Jane  Austen  show  a  reaction  from  Romanti- 
cism ?    What  important  work  did  she  do  for  the  novel  ?    To  what  kind  of  fic- 
tion was  her  work  opposed  ?   In  what  does  the  charm  of  her  novels  consist  ? 
Make  a  brief  comparison  between  Jane  Austen  and  Scott  (as  illustrated  in 
Pride  and  Prejudice  and  Ivanhoe),  having  in  mind  the  subject,  the  characters, 
the  manner  of   treatment,   and  the  interest  of  both  narratives.     Do   Jane 
Austen's  characters  have  to  be  explained  by  the  author,  or  do  they  explain 
themselves?    Which  method  calls  for  the  greater  literary  skill?    What  does 
Jane  Austen  say  about  Mrs.  Radcliffe,  in  Northanger  Abbey?   Does  she  make 
any  other  observations  on  eighteenth-century  novelists  ? 


THE  AGE  OF  ROMANTICISM 


451 


CHRONOLOGY 

End  of  the  Eighteenth  and  Beginning  of  the  Nineteenth  Century 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


1760-1820.  George  III 
1789-1799.  French  Revolution 


1800.  Union    of   Great    Britain    and 

Ireland 
1802.   Colonization  of  Australia 

1805.  Battle  of  Trafalgar 


1807.  Abolition  of  slave  trade 
1808-1814.  Peninsular  War 

1812.  Second  war  with  United  States 

1814.  Congress  of  Vienna 

1815.  Battle  of  Waterloo 


1819.  First  Atlantic  steamship 

1820.  George  IV  (d.  1830) 


1826.  First  Temperance  Society 

1829.  Catholic  Emancipation  Bill 

1830.  William  IV  (d.  1837) 
First  railway 

1832.  Reform  Bill 

1833.  Emancipation  of  slaves 

1834.  System  of  national  education 
1837.  Victoria  (d.  1901) 


1770-1850.  Wordsworth 
1771-1832.  Scott 

1796-1816.  Jane  Austen's  novels 
1798.  Lyrical  Ballads  of  Wordsworth 
and  Coleridge 


1802.  Scott's  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scot- 
tish Border 

1805-1817.  Scott's  poems 

1807.  Wordsworth's  Intimations  of 
Immortality.  Lamb's  Tales 
from  Shakespeare 


1809-1818.  Byron's  Childe  Harold 
1810-1813.  Coleridge's    Lectures    on 

Shakespeare 
1814-1831.  Waverley  Novels 

1816.  Shelley's  Alastor 

1817.  Coleridge's  Biographia  Literaria 
1817-1820.  Keats's  poems 
1818-1820.  Shelley's  Prometheus 

1820.  Wrordsworth's  Duddon  Sonnets 
1820-1833.  Lamb's  Essays  of  Elia 

1821.  De  Quincey's  Confessions 
1824-1846.  Lander's  Imaginary  Con- 
versations. 


1830.  Tennyson's  first  poems 

1831.  Scott's  last  novel 

1833.  Carlyle's  Sartor  Resartus 
Browning's  Pauline 


1853-1861.  De    Quincey's    Collected 
Essays 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  (1850-1900) 
THE  MODERN  PERIOD  OF  PROGRESS  AND  UNREST 

When  Victoria  became  queen,  in  1837,  English  literature 
seemed  to  have  entered  upon  a  period  of  lean  years,  in  marked 
contrast  with  the  poetic  fruitfulness  of  the  romantic  age  which 
we  have  just  studied.  Coleridge,  Shelley,  Keats,  Byron,  and 
Scott  had  passed  away,  and  it  seemed  as  if  there  were  no 
writers  in  England  to  fill  their  places.  Wordsworth  had 
written,  in  1835, 

Like  clouds  that  rake  the  mountain  summits, 

Or  waves  that  own  no  curbing  hand, 
How  fast  has  brother  followed  brother, 

From  sunshine  to  the  sunless  land ! 

In  these  lines  is  reflected  the  sorrowful  spirit  of  a  literary 
man  of  the  early  nineteenth  century  who  remembered  the 
glory  that  had  passed  away  from  the  earth.  But  the  leanness 
of  these  first  years  is  more  apparent  than  real.  Keats  and 
Shelley  were  dead,  it  is  true,  but  already  there  had  appeared 
three  disciples  of  these  poets  who  were  destined  to  be  far 
more  widely  read  than  were  their  masters.  Tennyson  had 
been  publishing  poetry  since  1827,  his  first  poems  appearing 
almost  simultaneously  with  the  last  work  of  Byron,  Shelley, 
and  Keats;  but  it  was  not  until  1842,  with  the  publication 
of  his  collected  poems,  in  two  volumes,  that  England  recog- 
nized in  him  one  of  her  great  literary  leaders.  So  also 
Elizabeth  Barrett  had  been  writing  since  1820,  but  not  till 
twenty  years  later  did  her  poems  become  deservedly  popular ; 
and  Browning  had  published  his  Pauline  in  1833,  but  it 
was  not  until  1 846,  when  he  published  the  last  of  the  series 

452 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  453 

called  Bells  and  Pomegranates,  that  the  reading  public  began 
to  appreciate  his  power  and  originality.  Moreover,  even  as 
romanticism  seemed  passing  away,  a  group  of  great  prose 
writers  —  Dickens,  Thackeray,  Carlyle,  and  Ruskin  —  had 
already  begun  to  proclaim  the  literary  glory  of  a  new  age, 
which  now  seems  to  rank  only  just  below  the  Elizabethan 
and  the  Romantic  periods. 

Historical  Summary.  Amid  the  multitude  of  social  and  political 
forces  of  this  great  age,  four  things  stand  out  clearly.  First,  the  long 
struggle  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  for  personal  liberty  is  defi- 
nitely settled,  and  democracy  becomes  the  established 
order  of  the  day.  The  king,  who  appeared  in  an  age  of  popular 
weakness  and  ignorance,  and  the  peers,  who  came  with  the  Normans 
in  triumph,  are  both  stripped  of  their  power  and  left  as  figureheads 
of  a  past  civilization.  The  last  vestige  of  personal  government  and 
of  the  divine  right  of  rulers  disappears  ;  the  House  of  Commons 
becomes  the  ruling  power  in  England ;  and  a  series  of  new  reform 
bills  rapidly  extend  the  suffrage,  until  the  whole  body  of  English 
people  choose  for  themselves  the  men  who  shall  represent  them. 

Second,  because  it  is  an  age  of  democracy,  it  is  an  age  of  popular 
education,  of  religious  tolerance,  of  growing  brotherhood,  and  of 
profound  social  unrest.  The  slaves  had  been  freed  in 
1833 ;  but  in  the  middle  of  the  century  England  awoke 
to  the  fact  that  slaves  are  not  necessarily  negroes,  stolen  in  Africa 
to  be  sold  like  cattle  in  the  market  place,  but  that  multitudes  of 
men,  women,  and  little  children  in  the  mines  and  factories  were 
victims  of  a  more  terrible  industrial  and  social  slavery.  To  free 
these  slaves  also,  the  unwilling  victims  of  our  unnatural  competitive 
methods,  has  been  the  growing  purpose  of  the  Victorian  Age  until 
the  present  day. 

Third,  because  it  is  an  age  of  democracy  and  education,  it  is  an 
age  of  comparative  peace.  England  begins  to  think  less  of  the 
The  Ideal  of  PomP  and  false  glitter  of  fighting,  and  more  of  its  moral 
Peace  evils,  as  the  nation  realizes  that  it  is  the  common  people 

who  bear  the  burden  and  the  sorrow  and  the  poverty  of  war,  while 
the  privileged  classes  reap  most  of  the  financial  and  political  rewards. 
Moreover,  with  the  growth  of  trade  and  of  friendly  foreign  relations, 
it  becomes  evident  that  the  social  equality  for  which  England  was 


454  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

contending  at  home  belongs  to  the  whole  race  of  men  ;  that  brother- 
hood is  universal,  not  insular ;  that  a  question  of  justice  is  never 
settled  by  fighting ;  and  that  war  is  generally  unmitigated  horror 
and  barbarism.  Tennyson,  who  came  of  age  when  the  great  Reform 
Bill  occupied  attention,  expresses  the  ideals  of  the  Liberals  of  his 
day  who  proposed  to  spread  the  gospel  of  peace, 

Till  the  war-drum  throbb'd  no  longer,  and  the  battle-flags  were  furled 
In  the  Parliament  of  Man,  the  Federation  of  the  world. 

Fourth,  the  Victorian  Age  is  especially  remarkable  because  of  its 
rapid  progress  in  all  the  arts  and  sciences  and  in  mechanical  inven- 
Arts  and  tions.  A  glance  at  any  record  of  the  industrial  achieve- 
Sciences  ments  of  the  nineteenth  century  will  show  how  vast  they 
are,  and  it  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  here  the  list  of  the  inventions, 
from  spinning  looms  to  steamboats,  and  from  matches  to  electric 
lights.  All  these  material  things,  as  well  as  the  growth  of  educa- 
tion, have  their  influence  upon  the  life  of  a  people,  and  it  is  inev- 
itable that  they  should  react  upon  its  prose  and  poetry;  though  as 
yet  we  are  too  much  absorbed  in  our  sciences  and  mechanics  to 
determine  accurately  their  influence  upon  literature.  When  these 
new  things  shall  by  long  use  have  became  familiar  as  country  roads, 
or  have  been  replaced  by  newer  and  better  things,  then  they  also 
will  have  their  associations  and  memories,  and  a  poem  on  the  rail- 
roads may  be  as  suggestive  as  Wordsworth's  sonnet  on  Westminster 
Bridge  ;  and  the  busy,  practical  workingmen  who  to-day  throng  our 
streets  and  factories  may  seem,  to  a  future  and  greater  age,  as  quaint 
and  poetical  as  to  us  seem  the  slow  toilers  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

Literary  Characteristics.  When  one  is  interested  enough 
to  trace  the  genealogy  of  Victoria  he  finds,  to  his  surprise, 
An  Age  of  that  in  her  veins  flowed  the  blood  both  of  William 
Prose  the  Conqueror  and  of  Cerdic,  the  first  Saxon  king 

of  England  ;  and  this  seems  to  be  symbolic  of  the  literature 
of  her  age,  which  embraces  the  whole  realm  of  Saxon  and 
Norman  life,  — the  strength  and  ideals  of  the  one,  and  the 
culture  and  refinement  of  the  other.  The  romantic  revival 
had  done  its  work,  and  England  entered  upon  a  new  free 
period,  in  which  every  form  of  literature,  from  pure  romance 
to  gross  realism,  struggled  for  expression.  At  this  day  it  is 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  455 

obviously  impossible  to  judge  the  age  as  a  whole  ;  but  we  are 
getting  far  enough  away  from  the  early  half  of  it  to  notice  cer- 
tain definite  characteristics.  First,  though  the  age  produced 
many  poets,  and  two  who  deserve  to  rank  among  the  greatest, 
nevertheless  this  is  emphatically  an  age  of  prose.  And  since 
the  number  of  readers  has  increased  a  thousandfold  with  the 
spread  of  popular  education,  it  is  the  age  of  the  newspaper,  the 
magazine,  and  the  modern  novel, — the  first  two  being  the  story 
of  the  world's  daily  life,  and  the  last  our  pleasantest  form  of 
literary  entertainment,  as  well  as  our  most  successful  method 
of  presenting  modern  problems  and  modern  ideals.  The  novel 
in  this  age  fills  a  place  which  the  drama  held  in  the  days  of 
Elizabeth ;  and  never  before,  in  any  age  or  language,  has  the 
novel  appeared  in  such  numbers  and  in  such  perfection. 

The  second  marked  characteristic  of  the  age  is  that  lit- 
erature, both  in  prose  and  in  poetry,  seems  to  depart  from 
Moral  tne  purely  artistic  standard,  of  art  for  art's  sake, 

Purpose  anci  to  ^e  actuated  by  a  definite  moral  purpose. 
Tennyson,  Browning,  Carlyle,  Ruskin, — who  and  what  were 
these  men  if  not  the  teachers  of  England,  not  vaguely  but 
definitely,  with  superb  faith  in  their  message,  and  with  the 
conscious  moral  purpose  to  uplift  and  to  instruct  ?  Even  the 
novel  breaks  away  from  Scott's  romantic  influence,  and  first 
studies  life  as  it  is,  and  then  points  out  what  life  may  and 
ought  to  be.  Whether  we  read  the  fun  and  sentiment  of 
Dickens,  the  social  miniatures  of  Thackeray,  or  the  psycho- 
logical studies  of  George  Eliot,  we  find  in  almost  every  case 
a  definite  purpose  to  sweep  away  error  and  to  reveal  the 
underlying  truth  of  human  life.  So  the  novel  sought  to  do 
for  society  in  this  age  precisely  what  Lyell  and  Darwin  sought 
to  do  for  science,  that  is,  to  find  the  truth,  and  to  show  how 
it  might  be  used  to  uplift  humanity.  Perhaps  for  this  reason 
the  Victorian  Age  is  emphatically  an  age  of  realism  rather 
than  of  romance,  —  not  the  realism  of  Zola  and  Ibsen,  but  a 
deeper  realism  which  strives  to  tell  the  whole  truth,  showing 


456  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

moral  and  physical  diseases  as  they  are,  but  holding  up  health 
and  hope  as  the  normal  conditions  of  humanity. 

It  is  somewhat  customary  to  speak  of  this  age  as  an  age 

of  doubt  and  pessimism,  following  the  new  conception  of 

man  and  of  the  universe  which  was  formulated  by 

Idealism 

science  under  the  name  of  Evolution.  It  is  spoken 
of  also  as  a  prosaic  age,  lacking  in  great  ideals.  Both  these 
criticisms  seem  to  be  the  result  of  judging  a  large  thing  when 
we  are  too  close  to  it  to  get  its  true  proportions,  just  as 
Cologne  Cathedral,  one  of  the  world's  most  perfect  structures, 
seems  to  be  a  shapeless  pile  of  stone  when  we  stand  too  close 
beneath  its  mighty  walls  and  buttresses.  Tennyson's  imma- 
ture work,  like  that  of  the  minor  poets,  is  sometimes  in  a 
doubtful  or  despairing  strain ;  but  his  In  Memoriam  is  like 
the  rainbow  after  storm ;  and  Browning  seems  better  to  ex- 
press the  spirit  of  his  age  in  the  strong,  manly  faith  of  w  Rabbi 
Ben  Ezra,"  and  in  the  courageous  optimism  of  all  his  poetry. 
Stedman's  Victorian  Anthology  is,  on  the  whole,  a  most  in- 
spiring book  of  poetry.  It  would  be  hard  to  collect  more 
varied  cheer  from  any  age.  And  the  great  essayists,  like 
Macaulay,  Carlyle,  Ruskin,  and  the  great  novelists,  like 
Dickens,  Thackeray,  George  Eliot,  generally  leave  us  with  a 
larger  charity  and  with  a  deeper  faith  in  our  humanity. 

So  also  the  judgment  that  this  age  is  too  practical  for  great 
ideals  may  be  only  a  description  of  the  husk  that  hides  a  very 
full  ear  of  corn.  It  is  well  to  remember  that  Spenser  and 
Sidney  judged  their  own  age  (which  we  now  consider  to  be 
the  greatest  in  our  literary  history)  to  be  altogether  given 
over  to  materialism,  and  to  be  incapable  of  literary  greatness. 
Just  as  time  has  made  us  smile  at  their  blindness,  so  the  next 
century  may  correct  our  judgment  of  this  as  a  material  age, 
and  looking  upon  the  enormous  growth  of  charity  and  brother- 
hood among  us,  and  at  the  literature  which  expresses  our 
faith  in  men,  may  judge  the  Victorian  Age  to  be,  on  the  whole, 
the  noblest  and  most  inspiring  in  the  history  of  the  world. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  457 

I.    THE   POETS   OF  THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 
ALFRED  TENNYSON  (1809-1892) 

O  young  Mariner, 
You  from  the  haven 
Under  the  sea-cliff. 
You  that  are  watching 
The  gray  Magician 
With  eyes  of  wonder, 
/  am   Merlin, 
And  /  am  dying, 
/  am   Merlin 
Who  follow  The  Gleam. 


O  young  Mariner, 
Down  to  the  haven 
Call  your  companions, 
Launch  your  vessel, 
And  crowd  your  canvas, 
And,  ere  it  vanishes 
Over  the  margin, 
After  it,  follow  it, 
Follow  The  Gleam. 

One  who  reads  this  haunting  poem  of  "  Merlin  and  The 
Gleam  "  finds  in  it  a  suggestion  of  the  spirit  of  the  poet's 
whole  life,  —  his  devotion  to  the  ideal  as  expressed  in  poetry, 
his  early  romantic  impressions,  his  struggles,  doubts,  triumphs, 
and  his  thrilling  message  to  his  race.  Throughout  the  entire 
Victorian  period  Tennyson  stood  at  the  summit  of  poetry  in 
England.  Not  in  vain  was  he  appointed  laureate  at  the  death 
of  Wordsworth,  in  1850;  for,  almost  alone  among  those  who 
have  held  the  office,  he  felt  the  importance  of  his  place,  and 
filled  and  honored  it.  For  nearly  half  a  century  Tennyson 
was  not  only  a  man  and  a  poet ;  he  was  a  voice,  the  voice  of 
a  whole  people,  expressing  in  exquisite  melody  their  doubts 
and  their  faith,  their  griefs  and  their  triumphs.  In  the  won- 
derful variety  of  his  verse  he  suggests  all  the  qualities  of 
England's  greatest  poets.  The  dreaminess  of  Spenser,  the 


458  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

majesty  of  Milton,  the  natural  simplicity  of  Wordsworth,  the 
fantasy  of  Blake  and  Coleridge,  the  melody  of  Keats  and 
Shelley,  the  narrative  vigor  of  Scott  and  Byron,  —  all  these 
striking  qualities  are  evident  on  successive  pages  of  Tenny- 
son's poetry.  The  only  thing  lacking  is  the  dramatic  power 
of  the  Elizabethans.  In  reflecting  the  restless  spirit  of  this 
progressive  age  Tennyson  is  as  remarkable  as  Pope  was  in 
voicing  the  artificiality  of  the  early  eighteenth  century.  As  a 
poet,  therefore,  who  expresses  not  so  much  a  personal  as  a 
national  spirit,  he  is  probably  the  most  representative  liter- 
ary man  of  the  Victorian  era. 

Life.  Tennyson's  life  is  a  remarkable  one  in  this  respect,  that 
from  beginning  to  end  he  seems  to  have  been  dominated  by  a  single 
impulse,  the  impulse  of  poetry.  He  had  no  large  or  remarkable  ex- 
periences, no  wild  oats  to  sow,  no  great  successes  or  reverses,  no 
business  cares  or  public  offices.  For  sixty-six  years,  from  the  appear- 
ance of  the  Poems  by  Two  Brothers,  in  1827,  until  his  death  in 
1892,  he  studied  and  practiced  his  art  continually  and  exclusively. 
Only  Browning,  his  fellow-worker,  resembles  him  in  this ;  but  the 
differences  in  the  two  men  are  world-wide.  Tennyson  was  naturally 
shy,  retiring,  indifferent  to  men,  hating  noise  and  publicity,  loving 
to  be  alone  with  nature,  like  Wordsworth.  Browning  was  sociable, 
delighting  in  applause,  in  society,  in  travel,  in  the  noise  and  bustle 
of  the  big  world. 

Tennyson  was  born  in  the  rectory  of  Somersby,  Lincolnshire,  in 
1809.  The  sweet  influences  of  his  early  natural  surroundings  can 
be  better  understood  from  his  early  poems  than  from  any  biography. 
He  was  one  of  the  twelve  children  of  the  Rev.  George  Clayton 
Tennyson,  a  scholarly  clergyman,  and  his  wife  Elizabeth  Fytche,  a 
gentle,  lovable  woman,  "not  learned,  save  in  gracious  household 
ways,"  to  whom  the  poet  pays  a  son's  loyal  tribute  near  the  close  of 
The  Princess.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  most  of  these  children 
were  poetically  inclined,  and  that  two  of  the  brothers,  Charles  and 
Frederick,  gave  far  greater  promise  than  did  Alfred. 

When  seven  years  old  the  boy  went  to  his  grandmother's  house 
at  Louth,  in  order  to  attend  a  famous  grammar  school  at  that  place. 
Not  even  a  man's  memory,  which  generally  makes  light  of  hardship 
and  glorifies  early  experiences,  could  ever  soften  Tennyson's  hatred 


ALFRED    TENNYSON 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  459 

of  school  life.  His  complaint  was  not  so  much  at  the  roughness  of 
the  boys,  which  had  so  frightened  Cowper,  as  at  the  brutality  of 
the  teachers,  who  put  over  the  school  door  a  wretched  Latin  in- 
scription translating  Solomon's  barbarous  advice  about  the  rod  and 
the  child.  In  these  psychologic  days,  when  the  child  is  more  impor- 
tant than  the  curriculum,  and  when  we  teach  girls  and  boys  rather 
than  Latin  and  arithmetic,  we  read  with  wonder  Carlyle's  description 
of  his  own  schoolmaster,  evidently  a  type  of  his  kind,  who  "knew 
of  the  human  soul  thus  much,  that  it  had  a  faculty  called  memory, 
and  could  be  acted  on  through  the  muscular  integument  by  appli- 
ance of  birch  rods."  After  four  years  of  most  unsatisfactory  school 
life,  Tennyson  returned  home,  and  was  fitted  for  the  university  by 
his  scholarly  father.  With  his  brothers  he  wrote  many  verses,  and 
his  first  efforts  appeared  in  a  little  volume  called  Poems  by  Two 
Brothers,  in  1827.  The  next  year  he  entered  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge,  where  he  became  the  center  of  a  brilliant  circle  of 
friends,  chief  of  whom  was  the  young  poet  Arthur  Henry  Hallam. 

At  the  university  Tennyson  soon  became  known  for  his  poetical 
ability,  and  two  years  after  his  entrance  he  gained  the  prize  of  the 
Chancellor's  Medal  for  a  poem  called  "Timbuctoo,"  the  subject, 
needless  to  say,  being  chosen  by  the  chancellor.  Soon  after  winning 
this  honor  Tennyson  published  his  first  signed  work,  called  Poems 
Chiefly  Lyrical  (1830),  which,  though  it  seems  somewhat  crude  and 
disappointing  to  us  now,  nevertheless  contained  the  germ  of  all  his 
later  poetry.  One  of  the  most  noticeable  things  in  this  volume  is 
the  influence  which  Byron  evidently  exerted  over  the  poet  in  his 
early  days;  and  it  was  perhaps  due  largely  to  the  same  romantic 
influence  that  Tennyson  and  his  friend  Hallam  presently  sailed  away 
to  Spain,  with  the  idea  of  joining  the  army  of  insurgents  against 
King  Ferdinand.  Considered  purely  as  a  revolutionary  venture,  this 
was  something  of  a  fiasco,  suggesting  the  noble  Duke  of  York  and 
his  ten  thousand  men,  —  "  he  marched  them  up  a  hill,  one  day ; 
and  he  marched  them  down  again."  From  a  literary  view  point, 
however,  the  experience  was  not  without  its  value.  The  deep  im- 
pression which  the  wild  beauty  of  the  Pyrenees  made  upon  the 
young  poet's  mind  is  reflected  clearly  in  the  poem  "CEnone." 

In  1831  Tennyson  left  the  university  without  taking  his  degree. 
The  reasons  for  this  step  are  not  clear;  but  the  family  was  poor, 
and  poverty  may  have  played  a  large  part  in  his  determination.  His 
father  died  a  few  months  later ;  but,  by  a  generous  arrangement 


460  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

with  the  new  rector,  the  family  retained  the  rectory  at  Somersby, 
and  here,  for  nearly  six  years,  Tennyson  lived  in  a  retirement  which 
strongly  suggests  Milton  at  Horton.  He  read  and  studied  widely, 
cultivated  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  nature,  thought  deeply  on 
the  problems  suggested  by  the  Reform  Bill  which  was  then  agitating 
England,  and  during  his  leisure  hours  wrote  poetry.  The  first  fruits 
of  this  retirement  appeared,  late  in  1832,  in  a  wonderful  little  vol- 
ume bearing  the  simple  name  Poems.  As  the  work  of  a  youth 
only  twenty-three,  this  book  is  remarkable  for  the  variety  and  melody 
of  its  verse.  Among  its  treasures  we  still  read  with  delight  "The 
Lotos  Eaters,"  "Palace  of  Art,"  "A  Dream  of  Fair  Women,"  "The 
Miller's  Daughter,"  "  OEnone,"  and  "The  Lady  of  Shalott";  but 
the  critics  of  the  Quarterly,  who  had  brutally  condemned  his  earlier 
work,  were  again  unmercifully  severe.  The  effect  of  this  harsh  criti- 
cism upon  a  sensitive  nature  was  most  unfortunate ;  and  when  his 
friend  Hallam  died,  in  1833,  Tennyson  was  plunged  into  a  period 
of  gloom  and  sorrow.  The  sorrow  may  be  read  in  the  exquisite  little 
poem  beginning,  "  Break,  break,  break,  On  thy  cold  gray  stones,  O 
Sea ! "  which  was  his  first  published  elegy  for  his  friend  ;  and  the  de- 
pressing influence  of  the  harsh  and  unjust  criticism  is  suggested  in 
"Merlin  and  The  Gleam,"  which  the  reader  will  understand  only 
after  he  has  read  Tennyson's  biography. 

For  nearly  ten  years  after  Hallam's  death  Tennyson  published 
nothing,  and  his  movements  are  hard  to  trace  as  the  family  went 
here  and  there,  seeking  peace  and  a  home  in  various  parts  of  Eng- 
land. But  though  silent,  he  continued  to  write  poetry,  and  it  was  in 
these  sad  wandering  days  that  he  began  his  immortal  In  Memoriam 
and  his  Idylls  of  the  King.  In  1842  his  friends  persuaded  him  to 
give  his  work  to  the  world,  and  with  some  hesitation  he  published 
his  Poems.  The  success  of  this  work  was  almost  instantaneous,  and 
we  can  appreciate  the  favor  with  which  it  was  received  when  we 
read  the  noble  blank  verse  of  "Ulysses"  and  "  Morte  d'Arthur," 
the  perfect  little  song  of  grief  for  Hallam  which  we  have  already 
mentioned,  and  the  exquisite  idyls  like  "Dora"  and  "The  Garden- 
er's Daughter,"  which  aroused  even  Wordsworth's  enthusiasm  and 
brought  from  him  a  letter  saying  that  he  had  been  trying  all  his  life 
to  write  such  an  English  pastoral  as  "  Dora  "  and  had  failed.  From 
this  time  forward  Tennyson,  with  increasing  confidence  in  himself 
and  his  message,  steadily  maintained  his  place  as  the  best  known 
and  best  loved  poet  in  England. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  461 

The  year  1850  was  a  happy  one  for  Tennyson.  He  was  appointed 
poet  laureate, to  succeed  Wordsworth;  and  he  married  Emily  Sellwood, 

Her  whose  gentle  will  has  changed  my  fate 
And  made  my  life  a  perfumed  altar  flame, 

whom  he  had  loved  for  thirteen  years,  but  whom  his  poverty  had  pre- 
vented him  from  marrying.  The  year  is  made  further  remarkable  by 
the  publication  of  In  Memoriam,  probably  the  most  enduring  of  his 
poems,  upon  which  he  had  worked  at  intervals  for  sixteen  years.  Three 
years  later,  with  the  money  that  his  work  now  brought  him,  he  leased 
the  house  Farringford,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  settled  in  the  first 
permanent  home  he  had  known  since  he  left  the  rectory  at  Somersby. 

For  the  remaining  forty  years  of  his  life  he  lived,  like  Words- 
worth, "  in  the  stillness  of  a  great  peace,"  writing  steadily,  and  en- 
joying the  friendship  of  a  large  number  of  people,  some  distinguished, 
some  obscure,  from  the  kindly  and  sympathetic  Victoria  to  the  serv- 
ants on  his  own  farm.  All  of  these  he  called  with  equal  sincerity  his 
friends,  and  to  each  one  he  was  the  same  man,  simple,  strong, 
kindly,  and  noble.  Carlyle  describes  him  as  "  a  fine,  large-featured, 
dim-eyed,  bronze-colored,  shaggy-headed  man,  .  .  .  most  restful, 
brotherly,  solid-hearted."  Loving  solitude  and  hating  publicity  as 
he  did,  the  numerous  tourists  from  both  sides  of  the  ocean,  who 
sought  him  out  in  his  retreat  and  insisted  upon  seeing  him,  made 
his  life  at  times  intolerable.  Influenced  partly  by  the  desire  to  es- 
cape such  popularity,  he  bought  land  and  built  for  himself  a  new 
house,  Aldworth,  in  Surrey,  though  he  made  his  home  in  Farring- 
ford for  the  greater  part  of  the  year. 

His  labor  during  these  years  and  his  marvelous  freshness  and 
youthfulness  of  feeling  are  best  understood  by  a  glance  at  the  con- 
tents of  his  complete  works.  Inferior  poems,  like  The  Princess, 
which  was  written  in  the  first  flush  of  his  success,  and  his  dramas, 
which  were  written  against  the  advice  of  his  best  friends,  may  easily 
be  criticised ;  but  the  bulk  of  his  verse  shows  an  astonishing  origi- 
nality and  vigor  to  the  very  end.  He  died  very  quietly  at  Aldworth, 
with  his  family  about  him  in  the  moonlight,  and  beside  him  a  volume 
of  Shakespeare,  open  at  the  dirge  in  Cymbeline : 

Fear  no  more  the  heat  o'  the  sun, 

Nor  the  furious  winter's  rages ; 
Thou  thy  worldly  task  hast  done, 

Home  art  gone,  and  ta'en  thy  wages. 


462  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

The  strong  and  noble  spirit  of  his  life  is  reflected  in  one  of  his  best 
known  poems,  "  Crossing  the  Bar,"  which  was  written  in  his  eighty- 
first  year,  and  which  he  desired  should  be  placed  at  the  end  of  his 
collected  works : 

Sunset  and  evening  star, 

And  one  clear  call  for  me ! 
And  may  there  be  no  moaning  of  the  bar, 

When  I  put  out  to  sea, 

But  such  a  tide  as,  moving,  seems  asleep, 

Too  full  for  sound  and  foam, 
When  that  which  drew  from  out  the  boundless  deep 

Turns  again  home. 

Twilight  and  evening  bell, 

And  after  that  the  dark  ! 
And  may  there  be  no  sadness  of  farewell, 

When  I  embark ; 

For  tho'  from  out  our  bourne  of  Time  and  Place 

The  flood  may  bear  me  far, 
I  hope  to  see  my  Pilot  face  to  face 

When  I  have  crost  the  bar. 

Works.  At  the  outset  of  our  study  of  Tennyson's  works 
it  may  be  well  to  record  two  things,  by  way  of  suggestion. 
First,  Tennyson's  poetry  is  not  so  much  to  be  studied  as  to 
be  read  and  appreciated ;  he  is  a  poet  to  have  open  on  one's 
table,  and  to  enjoy  as  one  enjoys  his  daily  exercise.  And 
second,  we  should  by  all  means  begin  to  get  acquainted  with 
Tennyson  in  the  days  of  our  youth.  Unlike  Browning,  who 
is  generally  appreciated  by  more  mature  minds,  Tennyson 
is  for  enjoyment,  for  inspiration,  rather  than  for  instruction. 
Only  youth  can  fully  appreciate  him ;  and  youth,  unfortu- 
nately, except  in  a  few  rare,  beautiful  cases,  is  something 
which  does  not  dwell  with  us  long  after  our  school  days.  The 
secret  of  poetry,  especially  of  Tennyson's  poetry,  is  to  be 
eternally  young,  and,  like  Adam  in  Paradise,  to  find  every 
morning  a  new  world,  fresh,  wonderful,  inspiring,  as  if  just 
from  the  hands  of  God. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  463 

Except  by  the  student,  eager  to  understand  the  whole 
range  of  poetry  in  this  age,  Tennyson's  earlier  poems  and 
Early  Poems,  ms  later  dramas  may  well  be  omitted.  Opinions 
and  Dramas  vary  about  both;  but  the  general  judgment  seems 
to  be  that  the  earlier  poems  show  too  much  of  Byron's  influ- 
ence, and  their  crudeness  suffers  by  comparison  with  the 
exquisitely  finished  work  of  Tennyson's  middle  life.  Of  dra- 
matic works  he  wrote  seven,  his  great  ambition  being  to  pre- 
sent a  large  part  of  the  history  of  England  in  a  series  of 
dramas.  Becket  was  one  of  the  best  of  these  works  and  met 
with  considerable  favor  on  the  stage  ;  but,  like  all  the  others, 
it  indicates  that  Tennyson  lacked  the  dramatic  power  and  the 
humor  necessary  for  a  successful  playwright. 

Among  the  remaining  poems  there  is  such  a  wide  variety 
that  every  reader  must  be  left  largely  to  follow  his  own  de- 
The  Princess,  lightful  choice.1  Of  the  Poems  of  1842  we  have 
and  Maud  already  mentioned  those  best  worth  reading.  The 
Princess,  a  Medley  (1847),  a  long  poem  of  over  three  thousand 
lines  of  blank  verse,  is  Tennyson's  answer  to  the  question  of 
woman's  rights  and  woman's  sphere,  which  was  then,  as  in 
our  own  day,  strongly  agitating  the  public  mind.  In  this 
poem  a  baby  finally  solves  the  problem  which  philosophers 
have  pondered  ever  since  men  began  to  think  connectedly 
about  human  society.  A  few  exquisite  songs,  like  "Tears, 
Idle  Tears,"  "Bugle  Song,"  and  "Sweet  and  Low,"  form  the 
most  delightful  part  of  this  poem,  which  in  general  is  hardly 
up  to  the  standard  of  the  poet's  later  work.  Maud  (1855)  is 
what  is  called  in  literature  a  monodrama,  telling  the  story  of 
a  lover  who  passes  from  morbidness  to  ecstasy,  then  to  anger 
and  murder,  followed  by  insanity  and  recovery.  This  was 
Tennyson's  favorite,  and  among  his  friends  he  read  aloud 
from  it  more  than  from  any  other  poem.  Perhaps  if  we  could 

1  An  excellent  little  volume  for  the  beginner  is  Van  Dyke's  "  Poems  by  Tennyson," 
which  shows  the  entire  range  of  the  poet's  work  from  his  earliest  to  his  latest  years 
(See  Selections  for  Reading,  at  the  end  of  this  chapter.) 


464  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

hear  Tennyson  read  it,  we  should  appreciate  it  better ;  but, 
on  the  whole,  it  seems  overwrought  and  melodramatic.  Even 
its  lyrics,  like  "Come  into  the  Garden,  Maud,"  which  make 
this  work  a  favorite  with  young  lovers,  are  characterized  by 
"  prettiness  "  rather  than  by  beauty  or  strength. 

Perhaps  the  most  loved  of  all  Tennyson's  works  is  In  Me- 

moriam^  which,  on  account  of  both  its  theme  and  its  exquisite 

workmanship,  is  "one  of  the  few  immortal  names 

In  Memoriam  .»  , .     , ,     _.  . 

that  were  not  born  to  die.  The  immediate  occa- 
sion of  this  remarkable  poem  was  Tennyson's  profound  per- 
sonal grief  at  the  death  of  his  friend  Hallam.  As  he  wrote 
lyric  after  lyric,  inspired  by  this  sad  subject,  the  poet's  grief 
became  less  personal,  and  the  greater  grief  of  humanity 
mourning  for  its  dead  and  questioning  its  immortality  took 
possession  of  him.  Gradually  the  poem  became  an  expres- 
sion, first,  of  universal  doubt,  and  then  of  universal  faith,  — 
a  faith  which  rests  ultimately  not  on  reason  or  philosophy, 
but  on  the  soul's  instinct  for  immortality.  The  immortality 
of  human  love  is  the  theme  of  the  poem,  which  is  made  up 
of  over  one  hundred  different  lyrics.  The  movement  takes 
us  through  three  years,  rising  slowly  from  poignant  sorrow 
and  doubt  to  a  calm  peace  and  hope,  and  ending  with  a 
noble  hymn  of  courage  and  faith,  —  a  modest  courage  and 
a  humble  faith,  love-inspired, — which  will  be  a  favorite  as 
long  as  saddened  men  turn  to  literature  for  consolation. 
Though  Darwin's  greatest  books  had  not  yet  been  written, 
science  had  already  overturned  many  old  conceptions  of  life ; 
and  Tennyson,  who  lived  apart  and  thought  deeply  on  all  the 
problems  of  his  day,  gave  this  poem  to  the  world  as  his  own 
answer  to  the  doubts  and  questionings  of  men.  This  univer- 
sal human  interest,  together  with  its  exquisite  form  and  mel- 
ody, makes  the  poem,  in  popular  favor  at  least,  the  supreme 
threnody,  or  elegiac  poem,  of  our  literature  ;  though  Milton's 
Lycidas  is,  from  the  critical  view  point,  undoubtedly  a  more 
artistic  work. 


SIR   GALAHAD 


466  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

The  Idylls  of  the  King  ranks  among  the  greatest  of  Tenny- 
son's later  works.  Its  general  subject  is  the  Celtic  legends 
idylls  of  the  °f  King  Arthur  and  his  knights  of  the  Round 
King  Table,  and  the  chief  source  of  its  material  is 

Malory's  Morte  d  Arthur.  Here,  in  this  mass  of  beautiful 
legends,  is  certainly  the  subject  of  a  great  national  epic  ;  yet 
after  four  hundred  years,  during  which  many  poets  have  used 
the  material,  the  great  epic  is  still  unwritten.  Milton  and 
Spenser,  as  we  have  already  noted,  considered  this  material 
carefully ;  and  Milton  alone,  of  all  English  writers,  had  per- 
haps the  power  to  use  it  in  a  great  epic.  Tennyson  began  to 
use  these  legends  in  his  Morte  d' Arthur  (1842) ;  but  the  epic 
idea  probably  occurred  to  him  later,  in  1856,  when  he  began 
"Geraint  and  Enid,"  and  he  added  the  stories  of  "Vivien," 
"Elaine,"  "Guinevere,"  and  other  heroes  and  heroines  at  in- 
tervals, until  "  Balin,"  the  last  of  the  Idylls^  appeared  in  1885. 
Later  these  works  were  gathered  together  and  arranged  with 
an  attempt  at  unity.  The  result  is  in  no  sense  an  epic  poem, 
but  rather  a  series  of  single  poems  loosely  connected  by  a 
thread  of  interest  in  Arthur,  the  central  personage,  and  in  his 
unsuccessful  attempt  to  found  an  ideal  kingdom. 

Entirely  different  in  spirit  is  another  collection  of  poems 
called  English  Idyls  ^  which  began  in  the  Poems  of  1842, 
English  and  which  Tennyson  intended  should  reflect  the 
Idyls  ideals  of  widely  different  types  of  English  life.  Of 

these  varied  poems,  "Dora,"  "The  Gardener's  Daughter," 
"Ulysses,"  "  Locksley  Hall"  and  "Sir  Galahad"  are  the 
best ;  but  all  are  worthy  of  study.  One  of  the  most  famous 
of  this  series  is  "Enoch  Arden "  (1864),  in  which  Tenny- 
son turns  from  mediaeval  knights,  from  lords,  heroes,  and 
fair  ladies,  to  find  the  material  for  true  poetry  among  the 
lowly  people  that  make  up  the  bulk  of  English  life.  Its  rare 
melody,  its  sympathy  for  common  life,  and  its  revelation  of 

1  Tennyson  made  a  distinction  in  spelling  between  the  Idylls  of  the  King,  and  the 
English  Idyls,  like  "  Dora." 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  467 

the  beauty  and  heroism  which  hide  in  humble  men  and  women 
everywhere,  made  this  work  an  instant  favorite.  Judged  by 
its  sales  alone,  it  was  the  most  popular  of  his  works  during 
the  poet's  lifetime. 

Tennyson's  later  volumes,  like  the  Ballads  (1880)  and 
Demeter  (1889),  should  not  be  overlooked,  since  they  contain 
some  of  his  best  work.  The  former  contains  stirring  war 
songs,  like  "The  Defence  of  Lucknow,"  and  pictures  of  wild 
passionate  grief,  like  "Rizpah";  the  latter  is  notable  for 
"Romney's  Remorse,"  a  wonderful  piece  of  work;  "Merlin 
and  The  Gleam,"  which  expresses  the  poet's  lifelong  ideal; 
and  several  exquisite  little  songs,  like  "The  Throstle,"  and 
"The  Oak,"  which  show  how  marvelously  the  aged  poet  re- 
tained his  youthful  freshness  and  inspiration.  Here  certainly 
is  variety  enough  to  give  us  long  years  of  literary  enjoyment ; 
and  we  need  hardly  mention  miscellaneous  poems,  like  "  The 
Brook"  and  "The  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade,"  which  are 
known  to  every  schoolboy;  and  "Wages"  and  "The  Higher 
Pantheism,"  which  should  be  read  by  every  man  who  thinks 
about  the  old,  old  problem  of  life  and  death. 

Characteristics  of  Tennyson's  Poetry.  If  we  attempt  to 
sum  up  the  quality  of  Tennyson,  as  shown  in  all  these  works, 
the  task  is  a  difficult  one ;  but  three  things  stand  out  more 
or  less  plainly.  First,  Tennyson  is  essentially  the  artist.  No 
other  in  his  age  studied  the  art  of  poetry  so  constantly  or  with 
such  singleness  of  purpose ;  and  only  Swinburne  rivals  him 
in  melody  and  the  perfect  finish  of  his  verse.  Second,  like  all 
the  great  writers  of  his  age,  he  is  emphatically  a  teacher,  often 
a  leader.  In  the  preceding  age,  as  the  result  of  the  turmoil 
produced  by  the  French  Revolution,  lawlessness  was  more 
or  less  common,  and  individuality  was  the  rule  in  literature. 
Tennyson's  theme,  so  characteristic  of  his  age,  is  the  reign 
of  order,  — of  law  in  the  physical  world,  producing  evolution, 
and  of  law  in  the  spiritual  world,  working  out  the  perfect 
man.  In  Memoriam,  Idylls  of  the  King^  The  Princess,  — 


468  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

here  are  three  widely  different  poems  ;  yet  the  theme  of  each, 
so  far  as  poetry  is  a  kind  of  spiritual  philosophy  and  weighs 
its  words  before  it  utters  them,  is  the  orderly  development 
of  law  in  the  natural  and  in  the  spiritual  world. 

This  certainly  is  a  new  doctrine  in  poetry,  but  the  message 
does  not  end  here.  Law  implies  a  source,  a  method,  an  ob- 
Tennyson's  ject-  Tennyson,  after  facing  his  doubts  honestly 
Message  anc]  manfully,  finds  law  even  in  the  sorrows  and 
losses  of  humanity.  He  gives  this  law  an  infinite  and  personal 
source,  and  finds  the  supreme  purpose  of  all  law  to  be  a  reve- 
lation of  divine  love.  All  earthly  love,  therefore,  becomes  an 
image  of  the  heavenly.  What  first  perhaps  attracted  readers*  to 
Tennyson,  as  to  Shakespeare,  was  the  character  of  his  women, 
—  pure,  gentle,  refined  beings,  whom  we  must  revere  as  our 
Anglo-Saxon  forefathers  revered  the  women  they  loved.  Like 
Browning,  the  poet  had  loved  one  good  woman  supremely, 
and  her  love  made  clear  the  meaning  of  all  life.  The  message 
goes  one  step  farther.  Because  law  and  love  are  in  the  world, 
faith  is  the  only  reasonable  attitude  toward  life  and  death, 
even  though  we  understand  them  not.  Such,  in  a  few  words, 
seems  to  be  Tennyson's  whole  message  and  philosophy . 

If  we  attempt  now  to  fix  Tennyson's  permanent  place  in 
literature,  as  the  result  of  his  life  and  work,  we  must  apply 
to  him  the  same  test  that  we  applied  to  Milton  and  Words- 
worth, and,  indeed,  to  all  our  great  poets,  and  ask  with  the 
German  critics,  "  What  new  thing  has  he  said  to  the  world 
or  even  to  his  own  country  ? "  The  answer  is,  frankly,  that 
we  do  not  yet  know  surely  ;  that  we  are  still  too  near  Tenny- 
son to  judge  him  impersonally.  This  much,  however,  is  clear. 
In  a  marvelously  complex  age,  and  amid  a  hundred  great  men, 
he  was  regarded  as  a  leader.  For  a  full  half  century  he  was 
the  voice  of  England,  loved  and  honored  as  a  man  and  a  poet, 
not  simply  by  a  few  discerning  critics,  but  by  a  whole  people 
that  do  not  easily  give  their  allegiance  to  any  one  man.  And 
that,  for  the  present,  is  Tennyson's  sufficient  eulogy. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  469 

ROBERT  BROWNING  (1812-1889) 

How  good  is  man's  life,  the  mere  living !  how  fit  to  employ 
All  the  heart  and  the  soul  and  the  senses  for  ever  in  joy ! 

In  this  new  song  of  David,  from  Browning's  Saul,  we  have 
a  suggestion  of  the  astonishing  vigor  and  hope  that  charac- 
terize all  the  works  of  Browning,  the  one  poet  of  the  age 
who,  after  thirty  years  of  continuous  work,  was  finally  recog- 
nized and  placed  beside  Tennyson,  and  whom  future  ages 
may'  judge  to  be  a  greater  poet,  —  perhaps,  even,  the  great 
est  in  our  literature  since  Shakespeare. 

The  chief  difficulty  in  reading  Browning  is  the  obscurity 
of  his  style,  which  the  critics  of  half  a  century  ago  held  up 
to  ridicule.  Their  attitude  towards  the  poet's  early  work  may 
be  inferred  from  Tennyson's  humorous  criticism  of  Sordello. 
It  may  be  remembered  that  the  first  line  of  this  obscure  poem 
is,  "Who  will  may  hear  Bordello's  story  told  "  ;  and  that  the 
last  line  is,  "Who  would  has  heard  Sordello's  story  told." 
Tennyson  remarked  that  these  were  the  only  lines  in  the 
whole  poem  that  he  understood,  and  that  they  were  evidently 
both  lies.  If  we  attempt  to  explain  this  obscurity,  which 
puzzled  Tennyson  and  many  less  friendly  critics,  we  find  that 
it  has  many  sources.  First,  the  poet's  thought  is  often  ob- 
scure, or  else  so  extremely  subtle  that  language  expresses  it 
imperfectly,  — 

Thoughts  hardly  to  be  packed 

Into  a  narrow  act, 

Fancies  that  broke  through  language  and  escaped. 

Second,  Browning  is  led  from  one  thing  to  another  by  his 
own  mental  associations,  and  forgets  that  the  reader's  associa- 
Browning's  tions  may  be  of  an  entirely  different  kind.  Third, 
Obscurity  Browning  is  careless  in  his  English,  and  frequently 
clips  his  speech,  giving  us  a  series  of  ejaculations.  As  we 
do  not  quite  understand  his  processes  of  thought,  we  must 
stop  between  the  ejaculations  to  trace  out  the  connections. 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Fourth,  Browning's  allusions  are  often  far-fetched,  refer- 
ring to  some  odd  scrap  of  information  which  he  has  picked 
up  in  his  wide  reading,  and  the  ordinary  reader  finds  it 
difficult  to  trace  and  understand  them.  Finally,  Browning 
wrote  too  much  and  revised  too  little.  The  time  which  he 
should  have  given  to  making  one  thought  clear  was  used  in 
expressing  other  thoughts  that  flitted  through  his  head  like 
a  flock  of  swallows.  His  field  was  the  individual  soul,  never 
exactly  alike  in  any  two  men,  and  he  sought  to  express 
,  the  hidden  motives 

^»  and  principles  which 

govern  individual  ac- 
tion. In  this  field  he 
is  like  a  miner  delving 
underground,  sending 
up  masses  of  mingled 
earth  and  ore  ;  and  the 
reader  must  sift  all 
this  material  to  sepa- 
rate the  gold  from  the 
dross. 

Here,  certainly,  are 
sufficient  reasons  for 
Browning's  obscurity ; 
and  we  must  add  the 

ROBERT   BROWNING  ,      .,  ,,          f       •,. 

word    that    the   fault 

seems  unpardonable,  for  the  simple  reason  that  Browning 
shows  himself  capable,  at  times,  of  writing  directly,  melodi- 
ously, and  with  noble  simplicity. 

So  much  for  the  faults,  which  must  be  faced  and  overlooked 
before  one  finds  the  treasure  that  is  hidden  in  Browning's 
Browning  as  poetry.  Of  all  the  poets  in  our  literature,  no  other 
a  Teacher  js  so  completely,  so  consciously,  so  magnificently 
a  teacher  of  men.  He  feels  his  mission  of  faith  and  courage 
in  a  world  of  doubt  and  timidity.  For  thirty  years  he  faced 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  471 

indifference  or  ridicule,  working  bravely  and  cheerfully  the 
while,  until  he  made  the  world  recognize  and  follow  him. 
The  spirit  of  his  whole  life  is  well  expressed  in  his  Paracelsus -, 
written  when  he  was  only  twenty-two  years  old  : 

I  see  my  way  as  birds  their  trackless  way. 
I  shall  arrive,  —  what  time,  what  circuit  first, 
I  ask  not ;  but  unless  God  send  his  hail 
Or  blinding  fire-balls,  sleet  or  stifling  snow, 
In  some  time,  his  good  time,  I  shall  arrive ; 
He  guides  me  and  the  bird.    In  his  good  time. 

He  is  not,  like  so  many  others,  an  entertaining  poet.  One 
cannot  read  him  after  dinner,  or  when  settled  in  a  comfort- 
able easy-chair.  One  must  sit  up,  and  think,  and  be  alert 
when  he  reads  Browning.  If  we  accept  these  conditions,  we 
shall  probably  find  that  Browning  is  the  most  stimulating 
poet  in  our  language.  His  influence  upon  our  life  is  positive 
and  tremendous.  His  strength,  his  joy  of  life,  his  robust 
faith,  and  his  invincible  optimism  enter  into  us,  making  us 
different  and  better  men  after  reading  him.  And  perhaps 
the  best  thing  we  can  say  of  Browning  is  that  his  thought 
is  slowly  but  surely  taking  possession  of  all  well-educated 
men  and  women. 

Life.  Browning's  father  was  outwardly  a  business  man,  a  clerk 
for  fifty  years  in  the  Bank  of  England ;  inwardly  he  was  an  interest- 
ing combination  of  the  scholar  and  the  artist,  with  the  best  tastes  of 
both.  His  mother  was  a  sensitive,  musical  woman,  evidently  very 
lovely  in  character,  the  daughter  of  a  German  shipowner  and  mer- 
chant who  had  settled  in  Scotland.  She  was  of  Celtic  descent,  and 
Carlyle  describes  her  as  the  true  type  of  a  Scottish  gentlewoman. 
From  his  neck  down,  Browning  was  the  typical  Briton,  —  short, 
stocky,  large-chested,  robust;  but  even  in  the  lifeless  portrait  his 
face  changes  as  we  view  it  from  different  angles.  Now  it  is  like  an 
English  business  man,  now  like  a  German  scientist,  and  now  it  has 
a  curious  suggestion  of  Uncle  Remus,  —  these  being,  no  doubt,  so 
many  different  reflections  of  his  mixed  and  unremembered  ancestors. 

He  was  born  in  Camberwell,  on  the  outskirts  of  London,  in  1812. 
From  his  home  and  from  his  first  school,  at  Peckham,  he  could  see 


472  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

London ;  and  the  city  lights  by  night  and  the  smoky  chimneys  by 
day  had  the  same  powerful  fascination  for  the  child  that  the  woods 
and  fields  and  the  beautiful  country  had  for  his  friend  Tennyson. 
His  schooling  was  short  and  desultory,  his  education  being  attended 
to  by  private  tutors  and  by  his  father,  who  left  the  boy  largely  to 
follow  his  own  inclination.  Like  the  young  Milton,  Browning  was 
fond  of  music,  and  in  many  of  his  poems,  especially  in  "Abt  Vog- 
ler  "  and  "A  Toccata  of  Galuppi's,"  he  interprets  the  musical  tem- 
perament better,  perhaps,  than  any  other  writer  in  our  literature. 
But  unlike  Milton,  through  whose  poetry  there  runs  a  great  melody, 
music  seems  to  have  had  no  consistent  effect  upon  his  verse,  which 
is  often  so  jarring  that  one  must  wonder  how  a  musical  ear  could 
have  endured  it. 

Like  Tennyson,  this  boy  found  his  work  very  early,  and  for  fifty 
years  hardly  a  week  passed  that  he  did  not  write  poetry.  He  began 
at  six  to  produce  verses,  in  imitation  of  Byron ;  but  fortunately  this 
early  work  has  been  lost.  Then  he  fell  under  the  influence  of 
Shelley,  and  his  first  known  work,  Pauline  (1833),  must  be  consid- 
ered as  a  tribute  to  Shelley  and  his  poetry.  Tennyson's  earliest 
work,  Poems  by  Two  Brothers,  had  been  published  and  well  paid 
for,  five  years  before ;  but  Browning  could  find  no  publisher  who 
would  even  consider  Pauline,  and  the  work  was  published  by  means 
of  money  furnished  by  an  indulgent  relative.  This  poem  received 
scant  notice  from  the  reviewers,  who  had  pounced  like  hawks  on  a 
dovecote  upon  Tennyson's  first  two  modest  volumes.  Two  years 
later  appeared  Paracelsus,  and  then  his  tragedy  Straff  or d  was  put 
upon  the  stage;  but  not  till  Sordello  was  published,  in  1840,  did  he 
attract  attention  enough  to  be  denounced  for  the  obscurity  and  va- 
garies of  his  style.  Six  years  later,  in  1846,  he  suddenly  became 
famous,  not  because  he  finished  in  that  year  his  Bells  and  Pome- 
granates (which  is  Browning's  symbolic  name  for  "  poetry  and 
thought  "or  "  singing  and  sermonizing  "),  but  because  he  eloped  with 
the  best  known  literary  woman  in  England,  Elizabeth  Barrett,  whose 
fame  was  for  many  years,  both  before  and  after  her  marriage,  much 
greater  than  Browning's,  and  who  was  at  first  considered  superior  to 
Tennyson.  Thereafter,  until  his  own  work  compelled  attention,  he 
was  known  chiefly  as  the  man  who  married  Elizabeth  Barrett.  For 
years  this  lady  had  been  an  almost  helpless  invalid,  and  it  seemed  a 
quixotic  thing  when  Browning,  having  failed  to  gain  her  family's  con- 
sent to  the  marriage,  carried  her  off  romantically.  Love  and  Italy 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  473 

proved  better  than  her  physicians,  and  for  fifteen  years  Browning 
and  his  wife  lived  an  ideally  happy  life  in  Pisa  and  in  Florence. 
The  exquisite  romance  of  their  love  is  preserved  in  Mrs.  Browning's 
Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese,  and  in  the  volume  of  Letters  recently 
published,  —  wonderful  letters,  but  so  tender  and  intimate  that  it 
seems  almost  a  sacrilege  for  inquisitive  eyes  to  read  them. 

Mrs.  Browning  died  in  Florence  in  1861.  The  loss  seemed  at 
first  too  much  to  bear,  and  Browning  fled  with  his  son  to  England. 
For  the  remainder  of  his  life  he  lived  alternately  in  London  and  in 
various  parts  of  Italy,  especially  at  the  Palazzo  Rezzonico,  in  Venice, 
which  is  now  an  object  of  pilgrimage  to  almost  every  tourist  who 
visits  the  beautiful  city.  Wherever  he  went  he  mingled  with  men 
and  women,  sociable,  well  dressed,  courteous,  loving  crowds  and 
popular  applause,  the  very  reverse  of  his  friend  Tennyson.  His 
earlier  work  had  been  much  better  appreciated  in  America  than  in 
England ;  but  with  the  publication  of  The  Ring  and  the  Book,  in 
1868,  he  was  at  last  recognized  by  his  countrymen  as  one  of  the 
greatest  of  English  poets.  He  died  in  Venice,  on  December  12, 
1889,  the  same  day  that  saw  the  publication  of  his  last  work, 
Asolando.  Though  Italy  offered  him  an  honored  resting  place, 
England  claimed  him  for  her  own,  and  he  lies  buried  beside  Tenny- 
son in  Westminster  Abbey.  The  spirit  of  his  whole  life  is  magnifi- 
cently expressed  in  his  own  lines,  in  the  Epilogue  of  his  last  book : 

One  who  never  turned  his  back,  but  marched  breast  forward, 

Never  doubted  clouds  would  break, 
Never  dreamed,  tho'  right  were  worsted,  wrong  would  triumph, 

Held  we  fall  to  rise,  are  baffled  to  fight  better, 
Sleep  to  wake. 

Works.  A  glance  at  even  the  titles  which  Browning 
gave  to  his  best  known  volumes  —  Dramatic  Lyrics  (1842), 
Dramatic  Romances  and  Lyrics  (1845),  Men  and  Women 
(1855),  Dramatis  Persona  (1864) — will  suggest  how  strong 
the  dramatic  element  is  in  all  his  work.  Indeed,  all  his 
poems  may  be  divided  into  three  classes,  —  pure  dramas, 
like  Strafford  and  A  Blot  in  the  'Scutcheon  ;  dramatic  narra- 
tives, like  Pippa  Passes,  which  are  dramatic  in  form,  but 
were  not  meant  to  be  acted ;  and  dramatic  lyrics,  like  The 
Last  Ride  Together,  which  are  short  poems  expressing  some 


474  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

strong  personal  emotion,  or  describing  some  dramatic  episode 
in  human  life,  and  in  which  the  hero  himself  generally  tells 
the  story. 

Though  Browning  is  often  compared  with  Shakespeare, 
the  reader  will  understand  that  he  has  very  little  of  Shake- 
Browning  and  speare's  dramatic  talent.  He  cannot  bring  a  group 
Shakespeare  of  people  together  and  let  the  actions  and  words 
of  his  characters  show  us  the  comedy  and  tragedy  of  human 
life.  Neither  can  the  author  be  disinterested,  satisfied,  as 
Shakespeare  was,  with  life  itself,  without  drawing  any  moral 
conclusions.  Browning  has  always  a  moral  ready,  and  insists 
upon  giving  us  his  own  views  of  life,  which  Shakespeare 
never  does.  His  dramatic  power  lies  in  depicting  what  he 
himself  calls  the  history  of  a  soul.  Sometimes,  as  in  Paracel- 
sus, he  endeavors  to  trace  the  progress  of  the  human  spirit. 
More  often  he  takes  some  dramatic  moment  in  life,  some 
crisis  in  the  ceaseless  struggle  between  good  and  evil,  and 
describes  with  wonderful  insight  the  hero's  own  thoughts 
and  feelings ;  but  he  almost  invariably  tells  us  how,  at  such 
and  such  a  point,  the  good  or  the  evil  in  his  hero  must  inevi- 
tably have  triumphed.  And  generally,  as  in  "  My  Last  Duch- 
ess," the  speaker  adds  a  word  here  and  there,  aside  from  the 
story,  which  unconsciously  shows  the  kind  of  man  he  is.  It 
is  this  power  of  revealing  the  soul  from  within  that  causes 
Browning  to  fascinate  those  who  study  him  long  enough. 
His  range  is  enormous,  and  brings  all  sorts  and  conditions 
of  men  under  analysis.  The  musician  in  "Abt  Vogler,"  the 
artist  in  "Andrea  del  Sarto,"  the  early  Christian  in  "A  Death 
in  the  Desert,"  the  Arab  horseman  in  "Muleykeh,"  the  sailor 
in  "Herve  Kiel/'  the  mediaeval  knight  in  "Childe  Roland," 
the  Hebrew  in  "Saul,"  the  Greek  in  "  Balaustion's  Adven- 
ture," the  monster  in  "  Caliban,"  the  immortal  dead  in  "  Karsh- 
ish,"  —  all  these  and  a  hundred  more  histories  of  the  soul 
show  Browning's  marvelous  versatility.  It  is  this  great  range 
of  sympathy  with  many  different  types  of  life  that  constitutes 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  475 

Browning's  chief  likeness  to  Shakespeare,  though  otherwise 
there  is  no  comparison  between  the  two  men. 

If  we  separate  all  these  dramatic  poems  into  three  main 
periods,  —  the  early,  from  1833  to  1841;  the  middle,  from 
First  Period  l84J  to  l868  ;  and  the  late,  from  1868  to  1889, — 
of  Work  the  work  of  the  beginner  will  be  much  more  easily 
designated.  Of  his  early  soul  studies,  Pauline  (1833),  Para- 
celsus (1835),  and  Sordello  (1840),  little  need  be  said  here, 
except  perhaps  this  :  that  if  we  begin  with  these  works,  we 
shall  probably  never  read  anything  else  by  Browning.  And 
that  were  a  pity.  It  is  better  to  leave  these  obscure  works 
until  his  better  poems  have  so  attracted  us  to  Browning  that 
we  will  cheerfully  endure  his  worst  faults  for  the  sake  of  his 
undoubted  virtues.  The  same  criticism  applies,  though  in 
less  degree,  to  his  first  drama,  Strafford (1837),  which  belongs 
to  the  early  period  of  his  work. 

The   merciless    criticism    which    greeted    Sordello   had    a 

wholesome  effect  on  Browning,  as  is  shown  in  the  better  work 

of  his  second  period.     Moreover,  his  new  power 

Second  Period 

was  developing  rapidly,  as  may  be  seen  by  com- 
paring the  eight  numbers  of  his  famous  Bells  and  Pome- 
granates series  (1841—1846)  with  his  earlier  work.  Thus,  the 
first  number  of  this  wonderful  series,  published  in  1841, 
contains  Pippa  Passes,  which  is,  on  the  whole,  the  most 
perfect  of  his  longer  poems  ;  and  another  number  contains 
A  Blot  in  the  'Scutcheon,  which  is  the  most  readable  of  his 
dramas.  Even  a  beginner  must  be  thrilled  by  the  beauty 
and  the  power  of  these  two  works.  Two  other  noteworthy 
dramas  of  the  period  are  Colombe's  Birthday  (1844)  and  In  a 
Balcony  (1855),  which,  however,  met  with  scant  appreciation 
on  the  stage,  having  too  much  subtle  analysis  and  too  little 
action  to  satisfy  the  public.  Nearly  all  his  best  lyrics,  dramas, 
and  dramatic  poems  belong  to  this  middle  period  of  labor  ;  and 
when  The  Ring  and  the  Book  appeared,  in  1868,  he  had  given 
to  the  world  the  noblest  expression  of  his  poetic  genius. 


4/6  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

In  the  third  period,  beginning  when  Browning  was  nearly 
sixty  years  old,  he  wrote  even  more  industriously  than  before, 

and  published  on  an  average  nearly  a  volume  of 
Third  Period  c  -,:'  . 

poetry  a  year.    Such  volumes  as  Fzfine  at  the  Fair, 

Red  Cotton  Night- Cap  Country,  The  Inn  Album,  Jocoseria,  and 
many  others,  show  how  Browning  gains  steadily  in  the  power 
of  revealing  the  hidden  springs  of  human  action  ;  but  he 
often  rambles  most  tiresomely,  and  in  general  his  work  loses  in 
sustained  interest.  It  is  perhaps  significant  that  most  of  his 
best  work  was  done  under  Mrs.  Browning's  influence. 

What  to  Read.  Of  the  short  miscellaneous  poems  there  is 
such  an  unusual  variety  that  one  must  hesitate  a  little  in  sug- 
gesting this  or  that  to  the  beginner's  attention.  "  My  Star," 
"Evelyn  Hope,"  "Wanting  is  — What?"  "Home  Thoughts 
from  Abroad,"  "Meeting  at  Night,"  "One  Word  More"  (an 
exquisite  tribute  to  his  dead  wife),  "Prospice"  (Look  For- 
ward); songs  from  Pippa  Passes ;  various  love  poems  like 
"By  the  Fireside"  and  "The  Last  Ride  Together"  ;  the  in- 
imitable "Pied  Piper,"  and  the  ballads  like  "  Herve  Kiel" 
and  "How  They  Brought  the  Good  News," — these  are  a 
mere  suggestion,  expressing  only  the  writer's  personal  prefer- 
ence ;  but  a  glance  at  the  contents  of  Browning's  volumes 
will  reveal  scores  of  other  poems,  which  another  writer  might 
recommend  as  being  better  in  themselves  or  more  character- 
istic of  Browning.1 

Among  Browning's  dramatic  soul  studies  there  is  also  a 
very  wide  choice.  "Andrea  del  Sarto  "  is  one  of  the  best, 
Soul  stud-  revealing  as  it  does  the  strength  and  the  weakness 
ies  of  "the  perfect  painter,"  whose  love  for  a  soulless 

woman  with  a  pretty  face  saddens  his  life  and  hampers  his 
best  work.  Next  in  importance  to  "Andrea"  stands  "An 
Epistle,"  reciting  the  experiences  of  Karshish,  an  Arab  phy- 
sician, which  is  one  of  the  best  examples  of  Browning's 

1  An  excellent  little  book  for  the  beginner  is  Lovett's  Selections  from  Browning. 
(See  Selections  for  Reading,  at  the  end  of  this  chapter.) 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  477 

peculiar  method  of  presenting  the  truth.  The  half-scoffing, 
half-earnest,  and  wholly  bewildered  state  of  this  Oriental 
scientist's  mind  is  clearly  indicated  between  the  lines  of  his 
letter  to  his  old  master.  His  description  of  Lazarus,  whom 
he  meets  by  chance,  and  of  the  state  of  mind  of  one  who, 
having  seen  the  glories  of  immortality,  must  live  again  in  the 
midst  of  the  jumble  of  trivial  and  stupendous  things  which 
constitute  our  life,  forms  one  of  the  most  original  and  sug- 
gestive poems  in  our  literature.  "  My  Last  Duchess  "  is  a 
short  but  very  keen  analysis  of  the  soul  of  a  selfish  man, 
who  reveals  his  character  unconsciously  by  his  words  of 
praise  concerning  his  dead  wife's  picture.  In  "The  Bishop 
Orders  his  Tomb  "  we  have  another  extraordinarily  interest- 
ing revelation  of  the  mind  of  a  vain  and  worldly  man,  this 
time  a  churchman,  whose  words  tell  you  far  more  than  he 
dreams  about  his  own  character.  "  Abt  Vogler,"  undoubtedly 
one  of  Browning's  finest  poems,  is  the  study  of  a  musician's 
soul.  "  Muleykeh  "  gives  us  the  soul  of  an  Arab,  vain  and 
proud  of  his  fast  horse,  which  was  never  beaten  in  a  race.  A 
rival  steals  the  horse  and  rides  away  upon  her  back ;  but, 
used  as  she  is  to  her  master's  touch,  she  will  not  show  her 
best  pace  to  the  stranger.  Muleykeh  rides  up  furiously ;  but 
instead  of  striking  the  thief  from  his  saddle,  he  boasts  about 
his  peerless  mare,  saying  that  if  a  certain  spot  on  her  neck 
were  touched  with  the  rein,  she  could  never  be  overtaken. 
Instantly  the  robber  touches  the  spot,  and  the  mare  answers 
with  a  burst  of  speed  that  makes  pursuit  hopeless.  Muleykeh 
has  lost  his  mare ;  but  he  has  kept  his  pride  in  the  unbeaten 
one,  and  is  satisfied.  "  Rabbi  Ben  Ezra,"  which  refuses  analy- 
sis, and  which  must  be  read  entire  to  be  appreciated,  is  per- 
haps the  most  quoted  of  all  Browning's  works,  and  contains 
the  best  expression  of  his  own  faith  in  life,  both  here  and 
hereafter.  All  these  wonderful  poems  are,  again,  merely  a 
suggestion.  They  indicate  simply  the  works  to  which  one 
reader  turns  when  he  feels  mentally  vigorous  enough  to  pick 


478  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

up  Browning.  Another  list  of  soul  studies,  citing  w  A  Toccata 
of  Galuppi's,"  "A  Grammarian's  Funeral,"  "  Fra  Lippo  Lippi," 
"Saul,"  "Cleon,"  "A  Death  in  the  Desert,"  and  "Soliloquy 
of  the  Spanish  Cloister,"  might,  in  another's  judgment,  be 
more  interesting  and  suggestive. 

Among  Browning's  longer  poems  there  are  two,  at  least, 
that  well  deserve  our  study.    Pippa  Passes,  aside  from  its 

rare  poetical  qualities,  is  a  study  of  unconscious 
Pippa  Passes  .    _  _,       .  ,          ,    , 

influence.    The  idea  of  the  poem  was  suggested  to 

Browning  while  listening  to  a  gypsy  girl  singing  in  the  woods 
near  his  home ;  but  he  transfers  the  scene  of  the  action  to 
the  little  mountain  town  of  Asolo,  in  Italy.  Pippa  is  a  little 
silk  weaver,  who  goes  out  in  the  morning  to  enjoy  her  one 
holiday  of  the  whole  year.  As  she  thinks  of  her  own  happi- 
ness she  is  vaguely  wishing  that  she  might  share  it,  and  do 
some  good.  Then,  with  her  childish  imagination,  she  begins 
to  weave  a  little  romance  in  which  she  shares  in  the  happi- 
ness of  the  four  greatest  and  happiest  people  in  Asolo.  It 
never  occurs  to  her  that  perhaps  there  is  more  of  misery 
than  of  happiness  in  the  four  great  ones  of  whom  she  dreams  ; 
and  so  she  goes  on  her  way  singing, 

The  year 's  at  the  spring 
And  day  's  at  the  morn ; 
Morning  's  at  seven  ; 
The  hillside  's  dew-pearled  ; 
The  lark  's  on  the  wing ; 
The  snail 's  on  the  thorn : 
God's  in  his  heaven  — 
All 's  right  with  the  world  ! 

Fate  wills  it  that  the  words  and  music  of  her  little  songs 
should  come  to  the  ears  of  four  different  groups  of  people  at 
the  moment  when  they  are  facing  the  greatest  crises  of  their 
lives,  and  turn  the  scale  from  evil  to  good.  But  Pippa  knows 
nothing  of  this.  She  enjoys  her  holiday,  and  goes  to  bed  still 
singing,  entirely  ignorant  of  the  good  she  has  done  in  the 
world.  With  one  exception,  it  is  the  most  perfect  of  all 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  479 

Browning's  works.  At  best  it  is  not  easy,  nor  merely  enter- 
taining reading ;  but  it  richly  repays  whatever  hours  we  spend 
in  studying  it. 

The  Ring  and  the  Book  is  Browning's  masterpiece.  It  is 
an  immense  poem,  twice  as  long  as  Paradise  Lost,  and  longer 
The  Ring  and  by  some  two  thousand  lines  than  the  Iliad;  and 
the  Book  before  we  begin  the  undoubted  task  of  reading  it, 
we  must  understand  that  there  is  no  interesting  story  or 
dramatic  development  to  carry  us  along.  In  the  beginning 
we  have  an  outline  of  the  story,  such  as  it  is  —  a  horrible 
story  of  Count  Guido's  murder  of  his  beautiful  young  wife ; 
and  Browning  tells  us  in  detail  just  when  and  how  he  found 
a  book  containing  the  record  of  the  crime  and  the  trial. 
There  the  story  element  ends,  and  the  symbolism  of  the  book 
begins.  The  title  of  the  poem  is  explained  by  the  habit  of 
the  old  Etruscan  goldsmiths  who,  in  making  one  of  their 
elaborately  chased  .rings,  would  mix  the  pure  gold  with  an 
alloy,  in  order  to  harden  it.  When  the  ring  was  finished,  acid 
was  poured  upon  it ;  and  the  acid  ate  out  the  alloy,  leaving 
the  beautiful  design  in  pure  gold.  Browning  purposes  to 
follow  the  same  plan  with  his  literary  material,  which  consists 
simply  of  the  evidence  given  at  the  trial  of  Guido  in  Rome, 
in  1698.  He  intends  to  mix  a  poet's  fancy  with  the  crude 
facts,  and  create  a  beautiful  and  artistic  work. 

The  result  of  Browning's  purpose  is  a  series  of  monologues, 
in  which  the  same  story  is  retold  nine  different  times  by  the 
different  actors  in  the  drama.  The  count,  the  young  wife, 
the  suspected  priest,  the  lawyers,  the  Pope  who  presides  at 
the  trial,  —  each  tells  the  story,  and  each  unconsciously  re- 
veals the  depths  of  his  own  nature  in  the  recital.  The  most 
interesting  of  the  characters  are  Guido,  the  husband,  who 
changes  from  bold  defiance  to  abject  fear ;  Caponsacchi,  the 
young  priest,  who  aids  the  wife  in  her  flight  from  her  brutal 
husband,  and  is  unjustly  accused  of  false  motives ;  Pompilia, 
the  young  wife,  one  of  the  noblest  characters  in  literature,  fit 


480  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

in  all  respects  to  rank  with  Shakespeare's  great  heroines ; 
and  the  Pope,  a  splendid  figure,  the  strongest  of  all  Brown- 
ing's masculine  characters.  When  we  have  read  the  story,  as 
told  by  these  four  different  actors,  we  have  the  best  of  the 
poet's  work,  and  of  the  most  original  poem  in  our  language. 

Browning's  Place  and  Message.  Browning's  place  in  our 
literature  will  be  better  appreciated  by  comparison  with  his 
Browning  and  friend  Tennyson,  whom  we  have  just  studied.  In 
Tennyson  one  respect,  at  least,  these  poets  are  in  perfect 
accord.  Each  finds  in  love  the  supreme  purpose  and  mean- 
ing of  life.  In  other  respects,  especially  in  their  methods  of 
approaching  the  truth,  the  two  men  are  the  exact  opposites. 
Tennyson  is  first  the  artist  and  then  the  teacher ;  but  with 
Browning  the  message  is  always  the  important  thing,  and  he 
is  careless,  too  careless,  of  the  form  in  which  it  is  expressed. 
Again,  Tennyson  is  under  the  influence  of  the  romantic  re- 
vival, and  chooses  his  subjects  daintily  ;  but  "all 's  fish  "  that 
comes  to  Browning's  net.  He  takes  comely  and  ugly  sub- 
jects with  equal  pleasure,  and  aims  to  show  that  truth  lies 
hidden  in  both  the  evil  and  the  good.  This  contrast  is  all 
the  more  striking  when  we  remember  that  Browning's  essen- 
tially scientific  attitude  was  taken  by  a  man  who  refused  to 
study  science.  Tennyson,  whose  work  is  always  artistic, 
never  studied  art,  but  was  devoted  to  the  sciences  ;  while 
Browning,  whose  work  is  seldom  artistic  in  form,  thought 
that  art  was  the  most  suitable  subject  for  a  man's  study. 

The  two  poets  differ  even  more  widely  in  their  respective 
messages.  Tennyson's  message  reflects  the  growing  order  of 
Browning's  tne  age>  and  is  summed  up  in  the  word  "law." 
Message  jn  ^{s  view,  the  individual  will  must  be  suppressed  ; 
the  self  must  always  be  subordinate.  His  resignation  is  at 
times  almost  Oriental  in  its  fatalism,  and  occasionally  it  sug- 
gests Schopenhauer  in  its  mixture  of  fate  and  pessimism. 
Browning's  message,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  triumph  of  the 
individual  will  over  all  obstacles ;  the  self  is  not  subordinate 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  481 

but  supreme.  There  is  nothing  Oriental,  nothing  doubtful, 
nothing  pessimistic  in  the  whole  range  of  his  poetry.  His  is 
the  voice  of  the  Anglo-Saxon,  standing  up  in  the  face  of  all 
obstacles  and  saying,  "  I  can  and  I  will."  He  is,  therefore,  far 
more  radically  English  than  is  Tennyson ;  and  it  may  be  for 
this  reason  that  he  is  the  more  studied,  and  that,  while  youth 
delights  in  Tennyson,  manhood  is  better  satisfied  with  Brown- 
ing. Because  of  his  invincible  will  and  optimism,  Browning 
is  at  present  regarded  as  the  poet  who  has  spoken  the  strong- 
est word  of  faith  to  an  age  of  doubt.  His  energy,  his  cheer- 
ful courage,  his  faith  in  life  and  in  the  development  that 
awaits  us  beyond  the  portals  of  death,  are  like  a  bugle-call  to 
good  living.  This  sums  up  his  present  influence  upon  the 
minds  of  those  who  have  learned  to  appreciate  him.  Of  the 
future  we  can  only  say  that,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  he  seems 
to  be  gaining  steadily  in  appreciation  as  the  years  go  by. 

MINOR  POETS  OF  THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 

Elizabeth  Barrett.  Among  the  minor  poets  of  the  past 
century  Elizabeth  Barrett  (Mrs.  Browning)  occupies  perhaps 
the  highest  place  in  popular  favor.  She  was  born  at  Coxhoe 
Hall,  near  Durham,  in  1806;  but  her  childhood  and  early 
youth  were  spent  in  Herefordshire,  among  the  Malvern  Hills 
made  famous  by  Purs  Plowman.  In  1835  tne  Barrett  family 
moved  to  London,  where  Elizabeth  gained  a  literary  reputa- 
tion by  the  publication  of  The  Seraphim  and  Other  Poems 
(1838).  Then  illness  and  the  shock  caused  by  the  tragic  death 
of  her  brother,  in  1840,  placed  her  frail  life  in  danger,  and 
for  six  years  she  was  confined  to  her  own  room.  The  innate 
strength  and  beauty  of  her  spirit  here  showed  itself  strongly 
in  her  daily  study,  her  poetry,  and  especially  in  her  interest 
in  the  social  problems  which  sooner  or  later  occupied  all  the 
Victorian  writers.  f f  My  mind  to  me  a  kingdom  is  "  might  well 
have  been  written  over  the  door  of  the  room  where  this  delicate 
invalid  worked  and  suffered  in  loneliness  and  in  silence. 


482  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

In  1844  Miss  Barrett  published  her  Poems,  which,  though 
somewhat  impulsive  and  overwrought,  met  with  remarkable 
public  favor.  Such  poems  as  "The  Cry  of  the  Children," 
which  voices  the  protest  of  humanity  against  child  labor, 
appealed  tremendously  to  the  readers  of  the  age,  and  this 
young  woman's  fame  as  a  poet  temporarily  overshadowed 
that  of  Tennyson  and  Browning.  Indeed,  as  late  as  1850, 
when  Wordsworth  died,  she  was  seriously  considered  for  the 
position  of  poet  laureate,  which  was  finally  given  to  Tennyson. 
A  reference  to  Browning,  in  "  Lady  Geraldine's  Courtship," 
is  supposed  to  have  first  led  the  poet  to  write  to  Miss  Barrett, 
in  1845.  Soon  afterwards  he  visited  the  invalid ;  they  fell  in 
love  almost  at  first  sight,  and  the  following  year,  against  the 
wishes  of  her  father,  —  who  was  evidently  a  selfish  old  tyrant, 
—  Browning  carried  her  off  and  married  her.  The  exquisite 
romance  of  their  love  is  reflected  in  Mrs.  Browning's  Sonnets 
from  the  Portuguese  (1850).  This  is  a  noble  and  inspiring 
book  of  love  poems ;  and  Stedman  regards  the  opening  son- 
net, "  I  thought  once  how  Theocritus  had  sung,"  as  equal  to 
any  in  our  language. 

For  fifteen  years  the  Brownings  lived  an  ideally  happy  life 
at  Pisa,  and  at  Casa  Guidi,  Florence,  sharing  the  same  poetical 
ambitions.  And  love  was  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world,  — 

How  do  I  love  thee  ?  Let  me  count  the  ways. 

I  love  thee  to  the  depth  and  breadth  and  height 

My  soul  can  reach,  when  feeling  out  of  sight 

For  the  ends  of  Being  and  ideal  Grace. 

I  love  thee  to  the  level  of  everyday's 

Most  quiet  need,  by  sun  and  candlelight. 

I  love  thee  freely,  as  men  strive  for  Right ; 

I  love  thee  purely,  as  they  turn  from  Praise ; 

I  love  thee  with  the  passion  put  to  use 

In  my  old  griefs,  and  with  my  childhood's  faith; 

I  love  thee  with  a  love  I  seemed  to  lose 

With  my  lost  saints,  —  I  love  thee  with  the  breath, 

Smiles,  tears,  of  all  my  life !  —  and,  if  God  choose, 

I  shall  but  love  thee  better  after  death. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 


483 


Mrs.  Browning  entered  with  whole-souled  enthusiasm  into 
the  aspirations  of  Italy  in  its  struggle  against  the  tyranny  of 
Austria  ;  and  her  Casa  Guidi  Windows  (1851)  is  a  combina- 
tion of  poetry  and  politics,  both,  it  must  be  confessed,  a  little 
too  emotional.  In  1856  she  published  Aurora  Leigh,  a  novel 
in  verse,  having  for  its  hero  a  young  social  reformer,  and  for 
its  heroine  a  young  woman,  poetical  and  enthusiastic,  who 
strongly  suggests  Elizabeth  Barrett  herself.  It  emphasizes  in 
verse  precisely  the  same  moral 
and  social  ideals  which  Dickens 
and  George  Eliot  were  proclaim- 
ing in  all  their  novels.  Her  last 
two  volumes  were  Poems  before 
Congress  ( 1 860),  and  Last  Poems, 
published  after  her  death.  She 
died  suddenly  in  1861  and  was 
buried  in  Florence.  Browning's 
famous  line, "  O  lyric  love,  half  an- 
gel and  half  bird,"  may  well  apply 
to  her  frail  life  and  aerial  spirit. 

Rossetti.  Dante  Gabriel  Ros- 
setti  (1828-1882),  the  son  of  an 
exiled  Italian  painter  and  scholar,  was  distinguished  both 
as  a  painter  and  as  a  poet.  He  was  a  leader  in  the  Pre- 
Raphaelite  movement l  and  published  in  the  first  numbers  of 

1  This  term,  which  means  simply  Italian  painters  before  Raphael,  is  generally  applied 
to  an  artistic  movement  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century.  The  term  was  first 
used  by  a  brotherhood  of  German  artists  who  worked  together  in  the  convent  of  San 
Isodoro,  in  Rome,  with  the  idea  of  restoring  art  to  its  mediaeval  purity  and  simplicity. 
The  term  now  generally  refers  to  a  company  of  seven  young  men,  —  Dante  Gabriel 
Rossetti  and  his  brother  William,  William  Holman  Hunt,  John  Everett  Millais,  James 
Collinson,  Frederick  George  Stevens,  and  Thomas  Woolner,  —  who  formed  the  Pre- 
Raphaelite  brotherhood  in  England  in  1848.  Their  official  literary  organ  was  called  The 
Germ,  in  which  much  of  the  early  work  of  Morris  and  Rossetti  appeared.  They  took 
for  their  models  the  early  Italian  painters  who,  they  declared,  were  "  simple,  sincere,  and 
religious."  Their  purpose  was  to  encourage  simplicity  and  naturalness  in  art  and  litera- 
ture ;  and  one  of  their  chief  objects,  in  the  face  of  doubt  and  materialism,  was  to  express 
the  "  wonder,  reverence,  and  awe "  which  characterizes  mediaeval  art.  In  its  return  to 
the  mysticism  and  symbolism  of  the  mediaeval  age,  this  Pre-Raphaelitism  suggests  the 
contemporary  Oxford  or  Tractarian  movement  in  religion.  (See  footnote,  p.  554.) 


MRS.   BROWNING 


484  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

The  Germ  his  "  Hand  and  Soul,"  a  delicate  prose  study,  and 
his  famous  "The  Blessed  Damozel,"  beginning, 

The  blessed  damozel  leaned  out 

From  the  gold  bar  of  Heaven; 
Her  eyes  were  deeper  than  the  depth 

Of  waters  stilled  at  even  ; 
She  had  three  lilies  in  her  hand, 

And  the  stars  in  her  hair  were  seven. 

These  two  early  works,  especially  "The  Blessed  Damozel," 
with  its  simplicity  and  exquisite  spiritual  quality,  are  charac- 
teristic of  the  ideals  of  the  Pre-Raphaelites. 

In  1860,  after  a  long  engagement,  Rossetti  married  Eliza- 
beth Siddal,  a  delicate,  beautiful  English  girl,  whom  he  has 
immortalized  both  in  his  pictures  and  in  his  poetry.  She  died 
two  years  later,  and  Rossetti  never  entirely  recovered  from 
the  shock.  At  her  burial  he  placed  in  her  coffin  the  manu- 
scripts of  all  his  unpublished  poems,  and  only  at  the  persist- 
ent demands  of  his  friends  did  he  allow  them  to  be  exhumed 
and  printed  in  1870.  The  publication  of  this  volume  of  love 
poems  created  a  sensation  in  literary  circles,  and  Rossetti  was 
hailed  as  one  of  the  greatest  of  living  poets.  In  1881  he  pub- 
lished his  Ballads  and  Sonnets,  a  remarkable  volume  contain- 
ing, among  other  poems,  "The  Confession,"  modeled  after 
Browning;  "  The  Ballad  of  Sister  Helen,"  founded  on  a  mediae- 
val superstition;  "The  King's  Tragedy,"  a  masterpiece  of 
dramatic  narrative;  and  "The  House  of  Life,"  a  collection  of 
one  hundred  and  one  sonnets  reflecting  the  poet's  love  and 
loss.  This  last  collection  deserves  to  rank  with  Mrs.  Brown- 
ing's Sonnets  from  the  Portugtiese  and  with  Shakespeare's 
Sonnets,  as  one  of  the  three  great  cycles  of  love  poems  in  our 
language.  It  has  been  well  said  that  both  Rossetti  and  Morris 
paint  pictures  as  well  in  their  poems  as  on  their  canvases,  and 
this  pictorial  quality  of  their  verse  is  its  chief  characteristic. 

Morris.  William  Morris  (1834-1896)  is  a  most  interesting 
combination  of  literary  man  and  artist.  In  the  latter  capacity, 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  485 

as  architect,  designer,  and  manufacturer  of  furniture,  carpets, 
and  wall  paper,  and  as  founder  of  the  Kelmscott  Press  for 
artistic  printing  and  bookbinding,  he  has  laid  us  all  under  an 
immense  debt  of  gratitude.  From  boyhood  he  had  steeped 
himself  in  the  legends  and  ideals  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  his 
best  literary  work  is  wholly  mediaeval  in  spirit.  The  Earthly 
Paradise  (1868-1870)  is  generally  regarded  as  his  master- 
piece. This  delightful  collection  of  stories  in  verse  tells  of  a 
roving  band  of  Vikings,  who  are  wrecked  on  the  fabled  island 
of  Atlantis,  and  who  discover  there  a  superior  race  of  men 
having  the  characteristics  of  ideal  Greeks.  The  Vikings  re- 
main for  a  year,  telling  stories  of  their  own  Northland,  and 
listening  to  the  classic  and  Oriental  tales  of  their  hosts. 
Morris's  interest  in  Icelandic  literature  is  further  shown  by 
his  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  an  epic  founded  upon  one  of  the  old 
sagas,  and  by  his  prose  romances,  The  House  of  the  Wolfings, 
The  Story  of  the  Glittering  Plain,  and  The  Roots  of  the 
Mountains.  Later  in  life  he  became  deeply  interested  in 
socialism,  and  two  other  romances,  The  Dream  of  John  Ball 
and  News  from  Nowhere,  are  interesting  as  modern  attempts 
at  depicting  an  ideal  society  governed  by  the  principles  of 
More's  Utopia. 

Swinburne.  Algernon  Charles  Swinburne  (1837-1909)  is, 
chronologically,  the  last  of  the  Victorian  poets.  As  an  artist 
in  technique  —  having  perfect  command  of  all  old  English 
verse  forms  and  a  remarkable  faculty  for  inventing  new —  he 
seems  at  the  present  time  to  rank  among  the  best  in  our  liter- 
ature. Indeed,  as  Stedman  says,  "before  his  advent  we  did 
not  realize  the  full  scope  of  English  verse."  This  refers  to 
the  melodious  and  constantly  changing  form  rather  than  to 
the  content  of  Swinburne's  poetry.  At  the  death  of  Tenny- 
son, in  1892,  he  was  undoubtedly  the  greatest  living  poet,  and 
only  his  liberal  opinions,  his  scorn  of  royalty  and  of  conven- 
tions, and  the  prejudice  aroused  by  the  pagan  spirit  of  his 
early  work  prevented  his  appointment  as  poet  laureate  He 


486  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

has  written  a  very  large  number  of  poems,  dramas,  and  essays 
in  literary  criticism ;  but  we  are  still  too  near  to  judge  of  the 
permanence  of  his  work  or  of  his  place  in  literature.  Those 
who  would  read  and  estimate  his  work  for  themselves  will  do 
well  to  begin  with  a  volume  of  selected  poems,  especially 
those  which  show  his  love  of  the  sea  and  his  exquisite  appre- 
ciation of  child  life.  His  Atalanta  in  Calydon  (1864),  a  beauti- 
ful lyric  drama  modeled  on  the  Greek  tragedy,  is  generally 
regarded  as  his  masterpiece.  In  all  his  work  Swinburne  carries 
Tennyson's  love  of  melody  to  an  extreme,  and  often  sacrifices 
sense  to  sound.  His  poetry  is  always  musical,  and,  like  music, 
appeals  almost  exclusively  to  the  emotions. 

We  have  chosen,  somewhat  arbitrarily,  these  four  writers 
—  Mrs.  Browning,  D.  G.  Rossetti,  Morris,  and  Swinburne  —  as 
representative  of  the  minor  poets  of  the  age ;  but  there  are 
many  others  who  are  worthy  of  study,  —  Arthur  Hugh  dough 
and  Matthew  Arnold,1  who  are  often  called  the  poets  of  skep- 
ticism, but  who  in  reality  represent  a  reverent  seeking  for  truth 
through  reason  and  human  experience ;  Frederick  William 
Faber,  the  Catholic  mystic,  author  of  some  exquisite  hymns ; 
and  the  scholarly  John  Keble,  author  of  The  Christian  Year, 
our  best  known  book  of  devotional  verse ;  and  among  the 
women  poets,  Adelaide  Procter,  Jean  Ingelow,  and  Christina 
Rossetti,  each  of  whom  had  a  large,  admiring  circle  of  readers. 
It  would  be  a  hopeless  task  at  the  present  time  to  inquire  into 
the  relative  merits  of  all  these  minor  poets.  We  note  only 
their  careful  workmanship  and  exquisite  melody,  their  wide 
range  of  thought  and  feeling,  their  eager  search  for  truth, 
each  in  his  own  way,  and  especially  the  note  of  freshness  and 
vitality  which  they  have  given  to  English  poetry. 

1  Arnold  was  one  of  the  best  known  poets  of  the  age,  but  because  he  has  exerted  a 
deeper  influence  on  our  literature  as  a  critic,  we  have  reserved  him  for  special  study  among 
the  essayists.  (See  p.  545.) 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  487 

II.   THE  NOVELISTS  OF  THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 
CHARLES  DICKENS  (1812-1870) 

When  we  consider  Dickens's  life  and  work,  in  comparison 
with  that  of  the  two  great  poets  we  have  been  studying,  the 
contrast  is  startling.  While  Tennyson  and  Browning  were 
being  educated  for  the  life  of  literature,  and  shielded  most 
tenderly  from  the  hardships  of  the  world,  Dickens,  a  poor, 
obscure,  and  suffering  child,  was  helping  to  support  a  shift- 
less family  by  pasting  labels  on  blacking  bottles,  sleeping 
under  a  counter  like  a  homeless  cat,  and  once  a  week  timidly 
approaching  the  big  prison  where  his  father  was  confined  for 
debt.  In  1836  his  Pickwick  was  published,  and  life  was 
changed  as  if  a  magician  had  waved  his  wand  over  him. 
While  the  two  great  poets  were  slowly  struggling  for  recogni- 
tion, Dickens,  with  plenty  of  money  and  too  much  fame,  was 
the  acknowledged  literary  hero  of  England,  the  idol  of  im- 
mense audiences  which  gathered  to  applaud  him  wherever  he 
appeared.  And  there  is  also  this  striking  contrast  between 
the  novelist  and  the  poets,  —  that  while  the  whole  tendency 
of  the  age  was  toward  realism,  away  from  the  extremes  of 
the  romanticists  and  from  the  oddities  and  absurdities  of  the 
early  novel  writers,  it  was  precisely  by  emphasizing  oddities 
and  absurdities,  by  making  caricatures  rather  than  characters, 
that  Dickens  first  achieved  his  popularity. 

Life.  In  Dickens's  early  life  we  see  a  stern  but  unrecognized 
preparation  for  the  work  that  he  was  to  do.  Never  was  there  a 
better  illustration  of  the  fact  that  a  boy's  early  hardship  and  suffer- 
ing are  sometimes  only  divine  messengers  disguised,  and  that  cir- 
cumstances which  seem  only  evil  are  often  the  source  of  a  man's 
strength  and  of  the  influence  which  he  is  to  wield  in  the  world.  He 
was  the  second  of  eight  poor  children,  and  was  born  at  Landport 
in  1812.  His  father,  who  is  supposed  to  be  the  original  of  Mr. 
Micawber,  was  a  clerk  in  a  navy  office.  He  could  never  make  both 
ends  meet,  and  after  struggling  with  debts  in  his  native  town  for 
many  years,  moved  to  London  when  Dickens  was  nine  years  old. 


488  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

The  debts  still  pursued  him,  and  after  two  years  of  grandiloquent 
misfortune  he  was  thrown  into  the  poor-debtors'  prison.  His  wife, 
the  original  of  Mrs.  Micawber,  then  set  up  the  famous  Boarding 
Establishment  for  Young  Ladies;  but,  in  Dickens's  words,  no  young 
ladies  ever  came.  The  only  visitors  were  creditors,  and  they  were 
quite  ferocious.  In  the  picture  of  the  Micawber  family,  with  its  tears 
and  smiles  and  general  shiftlessness,  we  have  a  suggestion  of  Dickens's 
own  family  life. 

At  eleven  years  of  age  the  boy  was  taken  out  of  school  and  went 
to  work  in  the  cellar  of  a  blacking  factory.  At  this  time  he  was,  in 
his  own  words,  a  "queer  small  boy,"  who  suffered  as  he  worked; 
and  we  can  appreciate  the  boy  and  the  suffering  more  when  we  find 
both  reflected  in  the  character  of  David  Copperfield.  It  is  a  heart- 
rending picture,  this  sensitive  child  working  from  dawn  till  dark  for 
a  few  pennies,  and  associating  with  toughs  and  waifs  in  his  brief  in- 
tervals of  labor ;  but  we  can  see  in  it  the  sources  of  that  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  hearts  of  the  poor  and  outcast  which  was  soon 
to  be  reflected  in  literature  and  to  startle  all  England  by  its  appeal 
for  sympathy.  A  small  legacy  ended  this  wretchedness,  bringing  the 
father  from  the  prison  and  sending  the  boy  to  Wellington  House 
Academy,  —  a  worthless  and  brutal  school,  evidently,  whose  head 
master  was,  in  Dickens's  words,  a  most  ignorant  fellow  and  a  tyrant. 
He  learned  little  at  this  place,  being  interested  chiefly  in  stories,  and 
in  acting  out  the  heroic  parts  which  appealed  to  his  imagination;  but 
again  his  personal  experience  was  of  immense  value,  and  resulted  in 
his  famous  picture  of  Dotheboys  Hall,  in  Nicholas  Nickleby,  which 
helped  largely  to  mitigate  the  evils  of  private  schools  in  England. 
Wherever  he  went,  Dickens  was  a  marvelously  keen  observer,  with 
an  active  imagination  which  made  stories  out  of  incidents  and  char- 
acters that  ordinary  men  would  have  hardly  noticed.  Moreover  he 
was  a  born  actor,  and  was  at  one  time  the  leading  spirit  of  a  band 
of  amateurs  who  gave  entertainments  for  charity  all  over  England. 
These  three  things,  his  keen  observation,  his  active  imagination, 
and  the  actor's  spirit  which  animated  him,  furnish  a  key  to  his  life 
and  writings. 

When  only  fifteen  years  old,  he  left  the  school  and  again  went  to 
work,  this  time  as  clerk  in  a  lawyer's  office.  By  night  he  studied 
shorthand,  in  order  to  fit  himself  to  be  a  reporter,  —  this  in  imitation 
of  his  father,  who  was  now  engaged  by  a  newspaper  to  report  the 
speeches  in  Parliament.  Everything  that  Dickens  attempted  seems 


CHARLES   DICKENS 
After  the  portrait  by  Daniel  Maclise 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  4^9 

to  have  been  done  with  vigor  and  intensity,  and  within  two  years  we 
find  him  reporting  important  speeches,  and  writing  out  his  notes  as 
the  heavy  coach  lurched  and  rolled  through  the  mud  of  country 
roads  on  its  dark  way  to  London  town.  It  was  largely  during  this 
period  that  he  gained  his  extraordinary  knowledge  of  inns  and  sta- 
bles and  "  horsey  "  persons,  which  is  reflected  in  his  novels.  He  also 
grew  ambitious,  and  began  to  write  on  his  own  account.  At  the  age 
of  twenty-one  he  dropped  his  first  little  sketch  "  stealthily,  with  fear 
and  trembling,  into  a  dark  letter-box,  in  a  dark  office  up  a  dark 
court  in  Fleet  Street."  The  name  of  this  first  sketch  was  "  Mr.  Minns 
and  his  Cousin,"  and  it  appeared  with  other  stories  in  his  first  book, 
Sketches  by  Boz,  in  1835.  One  who  reads  these  sketches  now,  with 
their  intimate  knowledge  of  the  hidden  life  of  London,  can  under- 
stand Dickens's  first  newspaper  success  perfectly.  His  best  known 
work,  Pickwick,  was  published  serially  in  1836—1837,  and  Dickens's 
fame  and  fortune  were  made.  Never  before  had  a  novel  appeared 
so  full  of  vitality  and  merriment.  Though  crude  in  design,  a  mere 
jumble  of  exaggerated  characters  and  incidents,  it  fairly  bubbled 
over  with  the  kind  of  humor  in  which  the  British  public  delights, 
and  it  still  remains,  after  three  quarters  of  a  century,  one  of  our 
most  care-dispelling  books. 

The  remainder  of  Dickens's  life  is  largely  a  record  of  personal 
triumphs.  Pickwick  was  followed  rapidly  by  Oliver  Twist,  Nicholas 
Nickleby,  Old  Curiosity  Shop,  and  by  many  other  works  which 
seemed  to  indicate  that  there  was  no  limit  to  the  new  author's  in- 
vention of  odd,  grotesque,  uproarious,  and  sentimental  characters. 
In  the  intervals  of  his  novel  writing  he  attempted  several  times  to 
edit  a  weekly  paper  ;  but  his  power  lay  in  other  directions,  and  with 
the  exception  of  Household  Words,  his  journalistic  ventures  were 
not  a  marked  success.  Again  the  actor  came  to  the  surface,  and 
after  managing  a  company  of  amateur  actors  successfully,  Dickens 
began  to  give  dramatic  readings  from  his  own  works.  As  he  was 
already  the  most  popular  writer  in  the  English  language,  these  read- 
ings were  very  successful.  Crowds  thronged  to  hear  him,  and  his 
journeys  became  a  continuous  ovation.  Money  poured  into  his 
pockets  from  his  novels  and  from  his  readings,  and  he  bought  for 
himself  a  home,  Gadshill  Place,  which  he  had  always  desired,  and 
which  is  forever  associated  with  his  memory.  Though  he  spent  the 
greater  part  of  his  time  and  strength  in  travel  at  this  period,  nothing 
is  more  characteristic  of  the  man  than  the  intense  energy  with  which 


490  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

he  turned  from  his  lecturing  to  his  novels,  and  then,  for  relaxa- 
tion, gave  himself  up  to  what  he  called  the  magic  lantern  of  the 
London  streets. 

In  1842,  while  still  a  young  man,  Dickens  was  invited  to  visit  the 
United  States  and  Canada,  where  his  works  were  even  better  known 
than  in  England,  and  where  he  was  received  as  the  guest  of  the 
nation  and  treated  with  every  mark  of  honor  and  appreciation.  At 
this  time  America  was,  to  most  Europeans,  a  kind  of  huge  fairyland, 
where  money  sprang  out  of  the  earth,  and  life  was  happy  as  a  long 
holiday.  Dicksns  evidently  shared  this  rosy  view,  and  his  romantic 
expectations  were  naturally  disappointed.  The  crude,  unfinished 
look  of  the  big  country  seems  to  have  roused  a  strong  prejudice  in 
his  mind,  which  was  not  overcome  at  the  time  of  his  second  visit, 
twenty-five  years  later,  and  which  brought  forth  the  harsh  criticism 
of  his  American  Notes  (1842)  and  of  Martin  Chuzzlewit  (1843- 
1844).  These  two  unkind  books  struck  a  false  note,  and  Dickens 
began  to  lose  something  of  his  great  popularity.  In  addition  he  had 
spent  money  beyond  his  income.  His  domestic  life,  which  had  been 
at  first  very  happy,  became  more  and  more  irritating,  until  he  sepa- 
rated from  his  wife  in  1858.  To  get  inspiration,  which  seemed  for  a 
time  to  have  failed,  he  journeyed  to  Italy,  but  was  disappointed. 
Then  he  turned  back  to  the  London  streets,  and  in  the  five  years 
from  1848  to  1853  appeared  Dombey  and  Son,  David  Copperfield, 
and  Bleak  House,  —  three  remarkable  novels,  which  indicate  that 
he  had  rediscovered  his  own  power  and  genius.  Later  he  resumed 
the  public  readings,  with  their  public  triumph  and  applause,  which 
soon  came  to  be  a  necessity  to  one  who  craved  popularity  as  a 
hungry  man  craves  bread.  These  excitements  exhausted  Dickens, 
physically  and  spiritually,  and  death  was  the  inevitable  result.  He 
died  in  1870,  over  his  unfinished  Edwin  Drood,  and  was  buried  in 
Westminster  Abbey. 

Dickens's  Work  in  View  of  his  Life.  A  glance  through  even 
this  unsatisfactory  biography  gives  us  certain  illuminating 
suggestions  in  regard  to  all  of  Dickens's  work.  First,  as  a 
child,  poor  and  lonely,  longing  for  love  and  for  society,  he 
laid  the  foundation  for  those  heartrending  pictures  of  chil- 
dren, which  have  moved  so  many  readers  to  unaccustomed 
tears.  Second,  as  clerk  in  a  lawyer's  office  and  in  the  courts, 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  491 

he  gained  his  knowledge  of  an  entirely  different  side  of  human 
life.  Here  he  learned  to  understand  both  the  enemies  and 
the  victims  of  society,  between  whom  the  harsh  laws  of  that 
day  frequently  made  no  distinction.  Third,  as  a  reporter,  and 
afterwards  as  manager  of  various  newspapers,  he  learned  the 
trick  of  racy  writing,  and  of  knowing  to  a  nicety  what  would 
suit  the  popular  taste.  Fourth,  as  an  actor,  always  an  actor 
in  spirit,  he  seized  upon  every  dramatic  possibility,  every 
tense  situation,  every  peculiarity  of  voice  and  gesture  in  the 
people  whom  he  met,  and  reproduced  these  things  in  his 
novels,  exaggerating  them  in  the  way  that  most  pleased  his 
audience. 

When  we  turn  from  his  outward  training  to  his  inner  dis- 
position we  find  two  strongly  marked  elements.  The  first  is 
his  excessive  imagination,  which  made  good  stories  out  of  in- 
cidents that  ordinarily  pass  unnoticed,  and  which  described 
the  commonest  things  —  a  street,  a  shop,  a  fog,  a  lamp-post, 
a  stagecoach  —  with  a  wealth  of  detail  and  of  romantic  sug- 
gestion that  makes  many  of  his  descriptions  like  lyric  poems. 
The  second  element  is  his  extreme  sensibility,  which  finds 
relief  only  in  laughter  and  tears.  Like  shadow  and  sunshine 
these  follow  one  another  closely  throughout  all  his  books. 

Remembering  these  two  things,  his  training  and  disposition, 
we  can  easily  foresee  the  kind  of  novel  he  must  produce.  He 
Dickens  and  w^  be  sentimental,  especially  over  children  and 
his  Public  outcasts  ;  he  will  excuse  the  individual  in  view  of 
the  faults  of  society  ;  he  will  be  dramatic  or  melodramatic  ; 
and  his  sensibility  will  keep  him  always  close  to  the  public, 
studying  its  tastes  and  playing  with  its  smiles  and  tears.  If 
pleasing  the  public  be  in  itself  an  art,  then  Dickens  is  one  of 
our  greatest  artists.  And  it  is  well  to  remember  that  in 
pleasing  his  public  there  was  nothing  of  the  hypocrite  or 
demagogue  in  his  make-up.  He  was  essentially  a  part  of  the 
great  drifting  panoramic  crowd  that  he  loved.  His  sympa- 
thetic soul  made  all  their  joys  and  griefs  his  own.  He  fought 


492  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

against  injustice  ;  he  championed  the  weak  against  the  strong; 
he  gave  courage  to  the  faint,  and  hope  to  the  weary  in  heart ; 
and  in  the  love  which  the  public  gave  him  in  return  he  found 
his  best  reward.  Here  is  the  secret  of  Dickens's  unprecedented 
popular  success,  and  we  may  note  here  a  very  significant 
parallel  with  Shakespeare.  The  great  difference  in  the  genius 
and  work  of  the  two  men  does  not  change  the  fact  that  each 
won  success  largely  because  he  studied  and  pleased  his  public. 
General  Plan  of  Dickens's  Novels.  An  interesting  sugges- 
tion comes  to  us  from  a  study  of  the  conditions  which  led  to 
Dickens's  first  three  novels.  Pickwick  was  written,  at  the  sug- 
gestion of  an  editor,  for  serial  publication.  Each  chapter  was 
to  be  accompanied  by  a  cartoon  by  Seymour  (a  comic  artist 
of  the  day),  and  the  object  was  to  amuse  the  public,  and,  inci- 
dentally, to  sell  the  paper.  The  result  was  a  series  of  charac- 
ters and  scenes  and  incidents  which  for  vigor  and  boundless 
fun  have  never  been  equaled  in  our  language.  Thereafter,  no 
matter  what  he  wrote,  Dickens  was  labeled  a  humorist.  Like 
a  certain  American  writer  of  our  own  generation,  everything 
he  said,  whether  for  a  feast  or  a  funeral,  was  supposed  to  con- 
tain a  laugh.  In  a  word,  he  was  the  victim  of  his  own  book. 
Dickens  was  keen  enough  to  understand  his  danger,  and  his 
next  novel,  Oliver  Twist,  had  the  serious  purpose  of  mitigat- 
ing the  evils  under  which  the  poor  were  suffering.  Its  hero 
was  a  poor  child,  the  unfortunate  victim  of  society ;  and,  in 
order  to  draw  attention  to  the  real  need,  Dickens  exaggerated 
the  woeful  condition  of  the  poor,  and  filled  his  pages  with  sen- 
timent which  easily  slipped  over  into  sentimentality.  This 
also  was  a  popular  success,  and  in  his  third  novel,  Nicholas 
Nickleby,  and  indeed  in  most  of  his  remaining  works,  Dickens 
combined  the  principles  of  his  first  two  books,  giving  us  mirth 
on  the  one  hand,  injustice  and  suffering  on  the  other;  min- 
gling humor  and  pathos,  tears  and  laughter,  as  we  find  them 
in  life  itself.  And  in  order  to  increase  the  lights  and  shadows 
in  his  scenes,  and  to  give  greater  dramatic  effect  to  his  narra- 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  493 

tive,  he  introduced  odious  and  loathsome  characters,  and  made 
vice  more  hateful  by  contrasting  it  with  innocence  and  virtue. 

We  find,  therefore,  in  most  of  Dickens's  novels  three  or  four 
widely  different  types  of  character :  first,  the  innocent  little 
His  Char-  child,  like  Oliver,  Joe,  Paul,  Tiny  Tim,  and  Little 
Nell,  appealing  powerfully  to  the  child  love  in  every 
human  heart ;  second,  the  horrible  or  grotesque  foil,  like 
Squeers,  Fagin,  Quilp,  Uriah  Heep,  and  Bill  Sykes  ;  third, 
the  grandiloquent  or  broadly  humorous  fellow,  the  fun  maker, 
like  Micawber  and  Sam  Weller ;  and  fourth,  a  tenderly  or 
powerfully  drawn  figure,  like  Lady  Dedlock  of  Bleak  House, 
and  Sydney  Carton  of  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities,  which  rise  to 
the  dignity  of  true  characters.  We  note  also  that  most  of 
Dickens's  novels  belong  decidedly  to  the  class  of  purpose  or 
problem  novels.  Thus  Bleak  House  attacks  "the  law's  de- 
lays ";  Little  Dorrit,  the  injustice  which  persecutes  poor 
debtors ;  Nicholas  Nickleby,  the  abuses  of  charity  schools 
and  brutal  schoolmasters ;  and  Oliver  Twist,  the  unnecessary 
degradation  and  suffering  of  the  poor  in  English  workhouses. 
Dickens's  serious  purpose  was  to  make  the  novel  the  instru- 
ment of  morality  and  justice,  and  whatever  we  may  think  of 
the  exaggeration  of  his  characters,  it  is  certain  that  his  stories 
did  more  to  correct  the  general  selfishness  and  injustice  of 
society  toward  the  poor  than  all  the  works  of  other  literary 
men  of  his  age  combined. 

The  Limitations  of  Dickens.  Any  severe  criticism  of  Dickens 
as  a  novelist  must  seem,  at  first  glance,  unkind  and  unneces- 
sary. In  almost  every  house  he  is  a  welcome  guest,  a  per- 
sonal friend  who  has  beguiled  many  an  hour  with  his  stories, 
and  who  has  furnished  us  much  good  laughter  and  a  few  good 
tears.  Moreover,  he  has  always  a  cheering  message.  He  em- 
phasizes the  fact  that  this  is  an  excellent  world  ;  that  some 
errors  have  crept  into  it,  due  largely  to  thoughtlessness,  but 
that  they  can  be  easily  remedied  by  a  little  human  sympathy. 
That  is  a  most  welcome  creed  to  an  age  overburdened  with 


494  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

social  problems  ;  and  to  criticise  our  cheery  companion  seems 
as  discourteous  as  to  speak  unkindly  of  a  guest  who  has  just 
left  our  home.  But  we  must  consider  Dickens  not  merely  as 
a  friend,  but  as  a  novelist,  and  apply  to  his  work  the  same 
standards  of  art  which  we  apply  to  other  writers ;  and  when 
we  do  this  we  are  sometimes  a  little  disappointed.  We  must 
confess  that  his  novels,  while  they  contain  many  realistic  de- 
tails, seldom  give  the  impression  of  reality.  His  characters, 
though  we  laugh  or  weep  or  shudder  at  them,  are  sometimes 
only  caricatures,  each  one  an  exaggeration  of  some  peculiarity, 
which  suggest  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  His  Humour.  It 
is  Dickens's  art  to  give  his  heroes  sufficient  reality  to  make 
them  suggest  certain  types  of  men  and  women  whom  we  know  ; 
but  in  reading  him  we  find  ourselves  often  in  the  mental  state 
of  a  man  who  is  watching  through  a  microscope  the  swarming 
life  of  a  water  drop.  Here  are  lively,  bustling,  extraordinary 
creatures,  some  beautiful,  some  grotesque,  but  all  far  apart 
from  the  life  that  we  know  in  daily  experience.  It  is  certainly 
not  the  reality  of  these  characters,  but  rather  the  genius  of 
the  author  in  managing  them,  which  interests  us  and  holds 
our  attention.  Notwithstanding  this  criticism,  which  we  would 
gladly  have  omitted,  Dickens  is  excellent  reading,  and  his 
novels  will  continue  to  be  popular  just  so  long  as  men  enjoy 
a  wholesome  and  absorbing  story. 

What;  to  Read.  Aside  from  the  reforms  in  schools  and 
prisons  and  workhouses  which  Dickens  accomplished,  he  has 
laid  us  all,  rich  and  poor  alike,  under  a  debt  of  gratitude. 
After  the  year  1843  the  one  literary  work  which  he  never 
neglected  was  to  furnish  a  Christmas  story  for  his  readers  ; 
and  it  is  due  in  some  measure  to  the  help  of  these  stories, 
brimming  over  with  good  cheer,  that  Christmas  has  become 
in  all  English-speaking  countries  a  season  of  gladness,  of  gift 
giving  at  home,  and  of  remembering  those  less  fortunate  than 
ourselves,  who  are  stHl  members  of  a  common  brotherhood. 
If  we  read  nothing  else  of  Dickens,  once  a  year,  at  ^Christmas 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  495 

time,  we  should  remember  him  and  renew  our  youth  by  read- 
ing one  of  his  holiday  stories,  —  The  Cricket  on  the  Hearth, 
The  Chimes,  and  above  all  the  unrivaled  Christmas  Carol. 
The  latter  especially  will  be  read  and  loved  as  long  as  men 
are  moved  by  the  spirit  of  Christmas. 

Of  the  novels,  David  Copperfield  is  regarded  by  many  as 
Dickens' s  masterpiece.  It  is  well  to  begin  with  this  novel,  not 
simply  for  the  unusual  interest  of  the  story,  but  also  for  the 
glimpse  it  gives  us  of  the  author's  own  boyhood  and  family. 
For  pure  fun  and  hilarity  Pickwick  will  always  be  a  favorite ; 
but  for  artistic  finish,  and  for  the  portrayal  of  one  great 
character,  Sydney  Carton,  nothing  else  that  Dickens  wrote  is 
comparable  to  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities.  Here  is  an  absorbing 
Tale  of  TWO  story>  with  a  carefully  constructed  plot,  and  the 
Cities  action  moves  swiftly  to  its  thrilling,  inevitable  con- 

clusion. Usually  Dickens  introduces  several  pathetic  or  gro- 
tesque or  laughable  characters  besides  the  main  actors,  and 
records  various  unnecessary  dramatic  episodes  for  their  own 
sake ;  but  in  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities  everything  has  its  place 
in  the  development  of  the  main  story.  There  are,  as  usual, 
many  characters,  —  Sydney  Carton,  the  outcast,  who  lays  down 
his  life  for  the  happiness  of  one  whom  he  loves  ;  Charles 
Darnay,  an  exiled  young  French  noble ;  Dr.  Manette,  who 
has  been  "recalled  to  life"  from  a  frightful  imprisonment, 
and  his  gentle  daughter  Lucie,  the  heroine  ;  Jarvis  Lorry,  a 
lovable,  old-fashioned  clerk  in  the  big  banking  house ;  the 
terrible  Madame  Defarge,  knitting  calmly  at  the  door  of  her 
wine  shop  and  recording,  with  the  ferocity  of  a  tiger  licking 
its  chops,  the  names  of  all  those  who  are  marked  for  ven- 
geance ;  and  a  dozen  others,  each  well  drawn,  who  play  minor 
parts  in  the  tragedy.  The  scene  is  laid  in  London  and  Paris, 
at  the  time  of  the  French  Revolution;  and,  though  careless  of 
historical  details,  Dickens  reproduces  the  spirit  of  the  Reign 
of  Terror  so  well  that  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities  is  an  excellent 
supplement  to  the  history  of  the  period.  It  is  written  in 


496  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Dickens's  usual  picturesque  style,  and  reveals  his  usual  imagi- 
native outlook  on  life  and  his  fondness  for  fine  sentiments 
and  dramatic  episodes.  Indeed,  all  his  qualities  are  here  shown, 
not  brilliantly  or  garishly,  as  in  other  novels,  but  subdued 
and  softened,  like  a  shaded  light,  for  artistic  effect. 

Those  who  are  interested  in  Dickens's  growth  and  methods 
can  hardly  do  better  than  to  read  in  succession  his  first  three 
novels,  Pickwick,  Oliver  Twist,  and  Nicholas  Nickleby,  which, 
as  we  have  indicated,  show  clearly  how  he  passed  from  fun  to 
serious  purpose,  and  which  furnish  in  combination  the  general 
plan  of  all  his  later  works.  For  the  rest,  we  can  only  indicate 
those  which,  in  our  personal  judgment,  seem  best  worth  read- 
ing, —  Bleak  House,  Dombey  and  Son,  Our  Mutual  Friend, 
and  Old  Curiosity  Shop,  —  but  we  are  not  yet  far  enough 
away  from  the  first  popular  success  of  these  works  to  deter- 
mine their  permanent  value  and  influence. 

WILLIAM  MAKEPEACE  THACKERAY  (1811-1863) 

As  the  two  most  successful  novelists  of  their  day,  it  is  nat- 
ural for  us,  as  it  was  for  their  personal  friends  and  admirers, 
to  compare  Dickens  and  Thackeray  with  respect  to  their  life 
and  work,  and  their  attitude  toward  the  world  in  which  they 
lived.  Dickens,  after  a  desperately  hard  struggle  in  his  boy- 
hood, without  friends  or  higher  education,  comes  into  man- 
hood cheery,  self-confident,  energetic,  filled  with  the  joy  of 
his  work ;  and  in  the  world,  which  had  at  first  treated  him  so 
harshly,  he  finds  good  everywhere,  even  in  the  jails  and  in 
the  slums,  simply  because  he  is  looking  for  it.  Thackeray, 
after  a  boyhood  spent  in  the  best  of  English  schools,  with 
money,  friends,  and  comforts  of  every  kind,  faces  life  timidly, 
distrustfully,  and  dislikes  the  literary  work  which  makes  him 
famous.  He  has  a  gracious  and  lovable  personality,  is  kind  of 
heart,  and  reveres  all  that  is  pure  and  good  in  life ;  yet  he 
is  almost  cynical  toward  the  world  which  uses  him  so  well, 
and  finds  shams,  deceptions,  vanities  everywhere,  because 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  497 

he  looks  for  them.  One  finds  what  one  seeks  in  this  world, 
but  it  is  perhaps  significant  that  Dickens  sought  his  golden 
fleece  among  plain  people,  and  Thackeray  in  high  society. 
The  chief  difference  between  the  two  novelists,  however,  is 
not  one  of  environment  but  of  temperament.  Put  Thackeray 
in  a  workhouse,  and  he  will  still  find  material  for  another 
Book  of  Snobs ;  put  Dickens  in  society,  and  he  cannot  help 
finding  undreamed-of  possibilities  among  bewigged  and  be- 
powdered  high  lords  and  ladies.  For  Dickens  is  romantic  and 
emotional,  and  interprets  the  world  largely  through  his  imagi- 
nation ;  Thackeray  is  the  realist  and  moralist,  who  judges  solely 
by  observation  and  reflection.  He  aims  to  give  us  a  true  pic- 
ture of  the  society  of  his  day,  and  as  he  finds  it  pervaded  by 
intrigues  and  snobbery  he  proceeds  to  satirize  it  and  point 
out  its  moral  evils.  In  his  novels  he  is  influenced  by  Swift 
and  Fielding,  but  he  is  entirely  free  from  the  bitterness  of 
the  one  and  the  coarseness  of  the  other,  and  his  satire  is 
generally  softened  by  a  noble  tenderness.  Taken  together, 
the  novels  of  Dickens  and  Thackeray  give  us  a  remarkable 
picture  of  all  classes  of  English  society  in  the  middle  of  the 
nineteenth  century. 

Life.  Thackeray  was  born  in  1 8 1 1 ,  in  Calcutta,  where  his  father 
held  a  civil  position  under  the  Indian  government.  When  the  boy 
was  five  years  old  his  father  died,  and  the  mother  returned  with  her 
child  to  England.  Presently  she  married  again,  and  Thackeray  was 
sent  to  the  famous  Charterhouse  school,  of  which  he  has  given  us  a 
vivid  picture  in  The  Newcomes.  Such  a  school  would  have  been  a 
veritable  heaven  to  Dickens,  who  at  this  time  was  tossed  about  be- 
tween poverty  and  ambition ;  but  Thackeray  detested  it  for  its  rude 
manners,  and  occasionally  referred  to  it  as  the  "Slaughterhouse." 
Writing  to  his  mother  he  says :  "  There  are  three  hundred  and 
seventy  boys  in  the  school.  I  wish  there  were  only  three  hundred 
and  sixty-nine." 

In  1829  Thackeray  entered  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  but  left 
after  less  than  two  years,  without  taking  a  degree,  and  went  to  Ger- 
many and  France,  where  he  studied  with  the  idea  of  becoming  an 


498 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


artist.  When  he  became  of  age,  in  1832,  he  came  into  possession  of 
a  comfortable  fortune,  returned  to  England,  and  settled  down  in  the 
Temple  to  study  law.  Soon  he  began  to  dislike  the  profession  in- 
tensely, and  we  have  in  Pendennis  a  reflection  of  his  mental  attitude 
toward  the  law  and  the  young  men  who  studied  it.  He  soon  lost  his 
fortune,  partly  by  gambling  and  speculation,  partly  by  unsuccessful 
attempts  at  running  a  newspaper,  and  at  twenty-two  began  for  the 
first  time  to  earn  his  own  living,  as  an  artist  and  illustrator.  An  in- 
teresting meeting  between  Thackeray  and  Dickens  at  this  time 
(1836)  suggests  the  relative  importance  of  the  two  writers.  Seymour, 
who  was  illustrating  the  Pickwick  Papers,  had  just  died,  and  Thack- 
eray called  upon  Dickens  with  a  few 
drawings  and  asked  to  be  allowed  to 
continue  the  illustrations.  Dickens 
was  at  this  time  at  the  beginning 
of  his  great  popularity.  The  better 
literary  artist,  whose  drawings  were 
refused,  was  almost  unknown,  and 
had  to  work  hard  for  more  than  ten 
years  before  he  received  recogni- 
tion. Disappointed  by  his  failure  as 
an  illustrator,  he  began  his  literary 
career  by  writing  satires  on  society 
for  Fraser's  Magazine.  This  was  the 
beginning  of  his  success ;  but  though 
the  Yellowplush  Papers,  The  Great 
Hoggarty  Diamond,  Catherine,  The 
Fitz  Boodlers,  The  Book  of  Snobs , 
Barry  Lyndon,  and  various  other  immature  works  made  him  known 
to  a  few  readers  of  Punch  and  of  Fraser's  Magazine,  it  was  not  till  the 
publication  of  Vanity  Fair  (1847-1848)  that  he  began  to  be  recog- 
nized as  one  of  the  great  novelists  of  his  day.  All  his  earlier  works 
are  satires,  some  upon  society,  others  upon  the  popular  novelists,  — 
Bulwer,  Disraeli,  and  especially  Dickens,  —  with  whose  sentimental 
heroes  and  heroines  he  had  no  patience  whatever.  He  had  married, 
meanwhile,  in  1836,  and  for  a  few  years  was  very  happy  in  his  home. 
Then  disease  and  insanity  fastened  upon  his  young  wife,  and  she  was 
placed  in  an  asylum.  The  whole  after  life  of  our  novelist  was  dark- 
ened by  this  loss  worse  than  death.  He  became  a  man  of  the  clubs, 
rather  than  of  his  own  home,  and  though  his  wit  and  kindness  made 


WILLIAM   MAKEPEACE 
THACKERAY 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  499 

him  the  most  welcome  of  clubmen,  there  was  an  undercurrent  of 
sadness  in  all  that  he  wrote.  Long  afterwards  he  said  that,  though 
his  marriage  ended  in  shipwreck,  he  "  would  do  it  over  again ;  for 
behold  Love  is  the  crown  and  completion  of  all  earthly  good." 

After  the  moderate  success  of  Vanity  fair,  Thackeray  wrote  the 
three  novels  of  his  middle  life  upon  which  his  fame  chiefly  rests,  — 
Pendennis  in  1850,  Henry  Esmond  in  1852,  and  The  Newcomes  in 
1855.  Dickens's  great  popular  success  as  a  lecturer  and  dramatic 
reader  had  led  to  a  general  desire  on  the  part  of  the  public  to  see 
and  to  hear  literary  men,  and  Thackeray,  to  increase  his  income, 
gave  two  remarkable  courses  of  lectures,  the  first  being  English 
Humorists  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,  and  the  second  The  Four 
Georges,  —  both  courses  being  delivered  with  gratifying  success  in 
England  and  especially  in  America.  Dickens,  as  we  have  seen,  was 
disappointed  in  America  and  vented  his  displeasure  in  outrageous 
criticism;  but  Thackeray,  with  his  usual  good  breeding,  saw  only 
the  best  side  of  his  generous  entertainers,  and  in  both  his  public  and 
private  utterances  emphasized  the  virtues  of  the  new  land,  whose 
restless  energy  seemed  to  fascinate  him.  Unlike  Dickens,  he  had 
no  confidence  in  himself  when  he  faced  an  audience,  and  like  most 
literary  men  he  disliked  lecturing,  and  soon  gave  it  up.  In  1860 
he  became  editor  of  the  Cornhill  Magazine,  which  prospered  in  his 
hands,  and  with  a  comfortable  income  he  seemed  just  ready  to  do 
his  best  work  for  the  world  (which  has  always  believed  that  he  was 
capable  of  even  better  things  than  he  ever  wrote)  when  he  died  sud- 
denly in  1863.  His  body  lies  buried  in  Kensal  Green,  and  only  a 
bust  does  honor  to  his  memory  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

Works  of  Thackeray.  The  beginner  will  do  well  to  omit 
the  earlier  satires  of  Thackeray,  written  while  he  was  strug- 
Henry  ES-  S^nS  to  earn  a  living  from  the  magazines,  and  open 
mond  Henry  Esmond  (1852),  his  most  perfect  novel, 

though  not  the  most  widely  known  and  read.  The  fine  his- 
torical and  literary  flavor  of  this  story  is  one  of  its  most 
marked  characteristics,  and  only  one  who  knows  something  of 
the  history  and  literature  of  the  eighteenth  century  can  ap- 
preciate its  value.  The  hero,  Colonel  Esmond,  relates  his 
own  story,  carrying  the  reader  through  the  courts  and  camps 
of  Queen  Anne's  reign,  and  giving  the  most  complete  and 


500  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

accurate  picture  of  a  past  age  that  has  ever  appeared  in  a 
novel.  Thackeray  is,  as  we  have  said,  a  realist,  and  he  begins 
his  story  by  adopting  the  style  and  manner  of  a  scholarly 
gentleman  of  the  period  he  is  describing.  He  has  an  ex- 
traordinary knowledge  of  eighteenth-century  literature,  and 
he  reproduces  its  style  in  detail,  going  so  far  as  to  insert  in 
his  narrative  an  alleged  essay  from  the  Tatler.  And  so  per- 
fectly is  it  done  that  it  is  impossible  to  say  wherein  it  differs 
from  the  style  of  Addison  and  Steele. 

In  his  matter  also  Thackeray  is  realistic,  reflecting  not  the 
pride  and  pomp  of  war,  which  are  largely  delusions,  but  its 
Realism  of  brutality  and  barbarism,  which  are  all  too  real ; 
Esmond  painting  generals  and  leaders,  not  as  the  newspaper 
heroes  to  whom  we  are  accustomed,  but  as  moved  by  intrigues, 
petty  jealousies,  and  selfish  ambitions ;  showing  us  the  great 
Duke  of  Marlborough  not  as  the  military  hero,  the  idol  of 
war-crazed  multitudes,  but  as  without  personal  honor,  and 
governed  by  despicable  avarice.  In  a  word,  Thackeray  gives 
us  the  "back  stairs"  view  of  war,  which  is,  as  a  rule,  totally 
neglected  in  our  histories.  When  he  deals  with  the  literary 
men  of  the  period,  he  uses  the  same  frank  realism,  showing 
us  Steele  and  Addison  and  other  leaders,  not  with  halos  about 
their  heads,  as  popular  authors,  but  in  slippers  and  dressing 
gowns,  smoking  a  pipe  in  their  own  rooms,  or  else  growing 
tipsy  and  hilarious  in  the  taverns, — just  as  they  appeared 
in  daily  life.  Both  in  style  and  in  matter,  therefore,  Esmond 
deserves  to  rank  as  probably  the  best  historical  novel  in 
our  language. 

The  plot  of  the  story  is,  like  most  of  Thackeray's  plots, 
very  slight,  but  perfectly  suited  to  the  novelist's  purpose. 
The  Plot  of  The  plans  of  his  characters  fail ;  their  ideals  grow 
Esmond  ^im  .  there  is  a  general  disappearance  of  youthful 
ambitions.  There  is  a  love  story  at  the  center ;  but  the  ele- 
ment of  romance,  which  furnishes  the  light  and  music  and 
fragrance  of  love,  is  inconspicuous.  The  hero,  after  ten  years 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  501 

of  devotion  to  a  young  woman,  a  paragon  of  beauty,  finally 
marries  her  mother,  and  ends  with  a  few  pious  observations 
concerning  Heaven's  mercy  and  his  own  happy  lot.  Such  an 
ending  seems  disappointing,  almost  bizarre,  in  view  of  the 
romantic  novels  to  which  we  are  accustomed ;  but  we  must 
remember  that  Thackeray's  purpose  was  to  paint  life  as  he 
saw  it,  and  that  in  life  men  and  things  often  take  a  different 
way  from  that  described  in  romances.  As  we  grow  acquainted 
with  Thackeray's  characters,  we  realize  that  no  other  ending 
was  possible  to  his  story,  and  conclude  that  his  plot,  like  his 
style,  is  perhaps  as  near  perfection  as  a  realistic  novelist  can 
ever  come. 

Vanity  Fair  (1847-1848)  is  the  best  known  of  Thackeray's 
novels.    It  was  his  first  great  work,  and  was  intended  to  ex- 
press his  own  views  of  the  social  life  about  him, 

Vanity  Fair    J  .  ' 

and  to  protest  against  -the  overdrawn  heroes  of 
popular  novels.  He  takes  for  his  subject  that  Vanity  Fair  to 
which  Christian  and  Faithful  were  conducted  on  their  way  to 
the  Heavenly  City,  as  recorded  in  Pilgrim  s  Progress.  In 
this  fair  there  are  many  different  booths,  given  over  to  the 
sale  of  "all  sorts  of  vanities,"  and  as  we  go  from  one  to 
another  we  come  in  contact  with  "juggling,  cheats,  games, 
plays,  fools,  apes,  knaves,  rogues,  and  that  of  every  kind." 
Evidently  this  is  a  picture  of  one  side  of  social  life ;  but  the 
difference  between  Bunyan  and  Thackeray  is  simply  this,  — 
that  Bunyan  made  Vanity  Fair  a  small  incident  in  a  long 
journey,  a  place  through  which  most  of  us  pass  on  our  way 
to  better  things ;  while  Thackeray,  describing  high  society  in 
his  own  day,  makes  it  a  place  of  long  sojourn,  wherein  his 
characters  spend  the  greater  part  of  their  lives.  Thackeray 
styles  this  work  "a  novel  without  a  hero."  The  whole  action 
of  the  story,  which  is  without  plot  or  development,  revolves 
about  two  women,  —  Amelia,  a  meek  creature  of  the  milk- 
and-water  type,  and  Becky  Sharp,  a  keen,  unprincipled  in- 
triguer, who  lets  nothing  stand  in  the  way  of  her  selfish 


502  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

desire  to  get  the  most  out  of  the  fools  who  largely  constitute 
society.  On  the  whole,  it  is  the  most  powerful  but  not  the 
most  wholesome  of  Thackeray's  works. 

In  his  second  important  novel,  Pendennis  (1849-1850),  we 

have  a  continuation  of  the  satire  on  society  begun  in  Vanity 

Fair.    This  novel,  which  the  beginner  should  read 

Pendennis          f          ~  ,   .     .    .  ,.  r 

after  Esmond,  is  interesting  to  us  for  two  reasons, 
—  because  it  reflects  more  of  the  details  of  Thackeray's  life 
than  all  his  other  writings,  and  because  it  contains  one 
powerfully  drawn  character  who  is  a  perpetual  reminder  of 
the  danger  of  selfishness.  The  hero  is  "neither  angel  nor 
imp/'  in  Thackeray's  words,  but  the  typical  young  man  of 
society,  whom  he  knows  thoroughly,  and  whom  he  paints  ex- 
actly as  he  is, — a  careless,  good-natured  but  essentially  selfish 
person,  who  goes  through  life  intent  on  his  own  interests. 
Pendennis  is  a  profound  moral  study,  and  the  most  powerful 
arraignment  of  well-meaning  selfishness  in  our  literature,  not 
even  excepting  George  Eliot's  Romola,  which  it  suggests. 

Two  other  novels,  The  Ne^vcomes  (1855)  and  The  Virgin- 
ians (1859),  complete  the  list  of  Thackeray's  great  works  of 
The  New-  fiction.  The  former  is  a  sequel  to  Pendennis,  and 
comes  the  latter  to  Henry  Esmond ;  and  both  share  the 

general  fate  of  sequels  in  not  being  quite  equal  in  power  or  in- 
terest to  their  predecessors.  The  Newcomes,  however,  de- 
serves a  very  high  place,  —  some  critics,  indeed,  placing  it  at 
the  head  of  the  author's  works.  Like  all  Thackeray's  novels, 
it  is  a  story  of  human  frailty ;  but  here  the  author's  innate 
gentleness  and  kindness  are  seen  at  their  best,  and  the  hero  is 
perhaps  the  most  genuine  and  lovable  of  all  his  characters. 

Thackeray  is  known  in  English  literature  as  an  essayist 
as  well  as  a  novelist.  His  English  Humorists  and  The  Four 
Thackeray's  Georges  are  among  the  finest  essays  of  the  nine- 
Essays  teenth  century.  In  the  former  especially,  Thackeray 
shows  not  only  a  wide  knowledge  but  an  extraordinary  under- 
standing of  his  subject.  Apparently  this  nineteenth-century 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  503 

writer  knows  Addison,  Fielding,  Swift,  Smollett,  and  other 
great  writers  of  the  past  century  almost  as  intimately  as  one 
knows  his  nearest  friend ;  and  he  gives  us  the  fine  flavor  of 
their  humor  in  a  way  which  no  other  writer,  save  perhaps 
Lamb,  has  ever  rivaled.1  The  Four  Georges  is  in  a  vein  of 
delicate  satire,  and  presents  a  rather  unflattering  picture  of 
four  of  England's  rulers  and  of  the  courts  in  which  they 
moved.  Both  these  works  are  remarkable  for  their  exquisite 
style,  their  gentle  humor,  their  keen  literary  criticisms,  and 
for  the  intimate  knowledge  and  sympathy  which  makes  the 
people  of  a  past  age  live  once  more  in  the  written  pages. 

General  Characteristics.  In  treating  of  Thackeray's  view  of 
life,  as  reflected  in  his  novels,  critics  vary  greatly,  and  the 
following  summary  must  be  taken  not  as  a  positive  judgment 
but  only  as  an  attempt  to  express  the  general  impression  of 
his  works  on  an  uncritical  reader.  He  is  first  of  all  a  realist, 
who  paints  life  as  he  sees  it.  As  he  says  himself,  "  I  have  no 
brains  above  my  eyes  ;  I  describe  what  I  see."  His  pictures 
of  certain  types,  notably  the  weak  and  vicious  elements  of 
society,  are  accurate  and  true  to  life,  but  they  seem  to  play 
too  large  a  part  in  his  books,  and  have  perhaps  too  greatly  in- 
fluenced his  general  judgment  of  humanity.  An  excessive 
sensibility,  or  the  capacity  for  fine  feelings  and  emotions,  is 
a  marked  characteristic  of  Thackeray,  as  it  is  of  Dickens 
and  Carlyle.  He  is  easily  offended,  as  they  are,  by  the 
shams  of  society;  but  he  cannot  find  an  outlet,  as  Dickens 
does,  in  laughter  and  tears,  and  he  is  too  gentle  to  follow 
Carlyle  in  violent  denunciations  and  prophecies.  He  turns  to 
satire, — influenced,  doubtless,  by  eighteenth-century  litera- 
ture which  he  knew  so  well,  and  in  which  satire  played  too 
large  a  part.2  His  satire  is  never  personal,  like  Pope's,  or 
brutal,  like  Swift's,  and  is  tempered  by  kindness  and  humor; 

1  It  should  be  pointed  out  that  the  English  Humorists  is  somewhat  too  highly  col- 
ored to  be  strictly  accurate.    In  certain  cases  also,  notably  that  of  Steele,  the  reader  may 
well  object  to  Thackeray's  patronizing  attitude  toward  his  subject. 

2  See  pp.  260-261. 


504  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

but  it  is  used  too  freely,  and  generally  lays  too  much  emphasis 
on  faults  and  foibles  to  be  considered  a  true  picture  of  any 
large  class  of  English  society. 

Besides  being  a  realist  and  satirist,  Thackeray  is  essentially 
a  moralist,  like  Addison,  aiming  definitely  in  all  his  work  at 
Thackeray  producing  a  moral  impression.  So  much  does  he 
as  a  Moralist  revere  goodness,  and  so  determined  is  he  that  his 
Pendennis  or  his  Becky  Sharp  shall  be  judged  at  their  true 
value,  that  he  is  not  content,  like  Shakespeare,  to  be  simply  an 
artist,  to  tell  an  artistic  tale  and  let  it  speak  its  own  message  ; 
he  must  explain  and  emphasize  the  moral  significance  of  his 
work.  There  is  no  need  to  consult  our  own  conscience  over 
the  actions  of  Thackeray's  characters ;  the  beauty  of  virtue 
and  the  ugliness  of  vice  are  evident  on  every  page. 

Whatever  we  may  think  of  Thackeray's  matter,  there  is  one 
point  in  which  critics  are  agreed,  —  that  he  is  master  of  a 
pure  and  simple  English  style.  Whether  his  thought 
be  sad  or  humorous,  commonplace  or  profound,  he 
expresses  it  perfectly,  without  effort  or  affectation.  In  all  his 
work  there  is  a  subtle  charm,  impossible  to  describe,  which 
gives  the  impression  that  we  are  listening  to  a  gentleman. 
And  it  is  the  ease,  the  refinement,  the  exquisite  naturalness 
of  Thackeray's  style  that  furnishes  a  large  part  of  our  pleas- 
ure in  reading  him. 

MARY  ANN  EVANS,  GEORGE  ELIOT  (1819-1880) 

In  nearly  all  the  writers  of  the  Victorian  Age  we  note,  on 
the  one  hand,  a  strong  intellectual  tendency  to  analyze  the 
problems  of  life,  and  on  the  other  a  tendency  to  teach,  that 
is,  to  explain  to  men  the  method  by  which  these  problems 
may  be  solved.  The  novels  especially  seem  to  lose  sight  of 
the  purely  artistic  ideal  of  writing,  and  to  aim  definitely  at 
moral  instruction.  In  George  Eliot  both  these  tendencies 
reach  a  climax.  She  is  more  obviously,  more  consciously  a 
preacher  and  moralizer  than  any  of  her  great  contemporaries. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  505 

Though  profoundly  religious  at  heart,  she  was  largely  occupied 
by  the  scientific  spirit  of  the  age ;  and  finding  no  religious 
creed  or  political  system  satisfactory,  she  fell  back  upon  duty 
as  the  supreme  law  of  life.  All  her  novels  aim,  first,  to  show 
in  individuals  the  play  of  universal  moral  forces,  and  second, 
to  establish  the  moral  law  as  the  basis  of  human  society.  Aside 
from  this  moral  teaching,  we  look  to  George  Eliot  for  the 
reflection  of  country  life  in  England,  just  as  we  look  to 
Dickens  for  pictures  of  the  city  streets,  and  to  Thackeray  for 
the  vanities  of  society.  Of  all  the  women  writers  who  have 
helped  and  are  still  helping  to  place  our  English  novels  at 
the  head  of  the  world's  fiction,  she  holds  at  present  unques- 
tionably the  highest  rank. 

Life.  Mary  Ann  (or  Marian)  Evans,  known  to  us  by  her  pen 
name  of  George  Eliot,  began  to  write  late  in  life,  when  nearly  forty 
years  of  age,  and  attained  the  leading  position  among  living  English 
novelists  in  the  ten  years  between  1870  and  1880,  after  Thackeray 
and  Dickens  had  passed  away.  She  was  born  at  Arbury  Farm,  War- 
wickshire, some  twenty  miles  from  Stratford-on-Avon,  in  1819.  Her 
parents  were  plain,  honest  folk,  of  the  farmer  class,  who  brought  her 
up  in  the  somewhat  strict  religious  manner  of  those  days.  Her  father 
seems  to  have  been  a  man  of  sterling  integrity  and  of  practical  Eng- 
lish sense,  —  one  of  those  essentially  noble  characters  who  do  the 
world's  work  silently  and  well,  and  who  by  their  solid  worth  obtain  a 
position  of  influence  among  their  fellow-men. 

A  few  months  after  George  Eliot's  birth  the  family  moved  to 
another  home,  in  the  parish  of  Griff,  where  her  childhood  was  largely 
passed.  The  scenery  of  the  Midland  counties  and  many  details  of 
her  own  family  life  are  reflected  in  her  earlier  novels.  Thus  we  find 
her  and  her  brother,  as  Maggie  and  Tom  Tulliver,  in  The  Mill  on 
the  Floss  ;  her  aunt,  as  Dinah  Morris,  and  her  mother,  as  Mrs.  Poy- 
ser,  in  Adam  Bede.  We  have  a  suggestion  of  her  father  in  the  hero 
of  the  latter  novel,  but  the  picture  is  more  fully  drawn  as  Caleb 
Garth,  in  Middlcmarch.  For  a  few  years  she  studied  at  two  private 
schools  for  young  ladies,  at  Nuneaton  and  Coventry  ;  but  the  death 
of  her  mother  called  her,  at  seventeen  years  of  age,  to  take  entire 
charge  of  the  household.  Thereafter  her  education  was  gained  wholly 


«;o6 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


by  miscellaneous  reading.  We  have  a  suggestion  of  her  method  in 
one  of  her  early  letters,  in  which  she  says :  "  My  mind  presents  an 
assemblage  of  disjointed  specimens  of  history,  ancient  and  modern ; 
scraps  of  poetry  picked  up  from  Shakespeare,  Cowper,  Wordsworth, 
and  Milton ;  newspaper  topics,  morsels  of  Addison  and  Bacon,  Latin 
verbs,  geometry,  entomology,  and  chemistry;  reviews  and  metaphys- 
ics, all  arrested  and  petrified  and  smothered  by  the  fast-thickening 
everyday  accession  of  actual  events,  relative  anxieties,  and  house- 
hold cares  and  vexations." 

When  Mary  was  twenty-one  years  old  the  family  again  moved,  this 
time  to  Foleshill  Road,  near  Coventry.  Here  she  became  acquainted 

with  the  family  of  Charles  Bray, 
a  prosperous  ribbon  manufacturer, 
whose  house  was  a  gathering  place 
for  the  freethinkers  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. The  effect  of  this  lib- 
eral atmosphere  upon  Miss  Evans, 
brought  up  in  a  narrow  way,  with 
no  knowledge  of  the  world,  was  to 
unsettle  many  of  her  youthful  con- 
victions. From  a  narrow,  intense 
dogmatism,  she  went  to  the  other 
extreme  of  radicalism ;  then  (about 
1860)  she  lost  all  sympathy  with 
the  freethinkers,  and,  being  in- 
stinctively religious,  seemed  to  be 
groping  after  a  definite  faith  while 
following  the  ideal  of  duty.  This  spiritual  struggle,  which  suggests 
that  of  Carlyle,  is  undoubtedly  the  cause  of  that  gloom  and  depres- 
sion which  hang,  like  an  English  fog,  over  much  of  her  work ;  though 
her  biographer,  Cross,  tells  us  that  she  was  not  by  any  means  a  sad 
or  gloomy  woman. 

In  1849  Miss  Evans's  father  died,  and  the  Brays  took  her  abroad 
for  a  tour  of  the  continent.  On  her  return  to  England  she  wrote 
several  liberal  articles  for  the  Westminster  Review,  and  presently  was 
made  assistant  editor  of  that  magazine.  Her  residence  in  London  at 
this  time  marks  a  turning  point  in  her  career  and  the  real  beginning 
of  her  literary  life.  She  made  strong  friendships  with  Spencer,  Mill, 
and  other  scientists  of  the  day,  and  through  Spencer  met  George 
Henry  Lewes,  a  miscellaneous  writer,  whom  she  afterwards  married. 


MARY   ANN    EVANS, 
GEORGE   ELIOT 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  507 

Under  his  sympathetic  influence  she  began  to  write  fiction  for  the 
magazines,  her  first  story  being  "Amos  Barton"  (1857),  which  was 
later  included  in  the  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  (1858).  Her  first 
long  novel,  Adam  Bede,  appeared  early  in  1859  and  met  with  such 
popular  favor  that  to  the  end  of  her  life  she  despaired  of  ever  again 
repeating  her  triumph.  But  the  unexpected  success  proved  to  be  an 
inspiration,  and  she  completed  The  Mill  on  the  Floss  and  began 
Silas  Marner  during  the  following  year.  Not  until  the  great  success 
of  these  works  led  to  an  insistent  demand  to  know  the  author  did 
the  English  public  learn  that  it  was  a  woman,  and  not  an  English 
clergyman,  as  they  supposed,  who  had  suddenly  jumped  to  the  front 
rank  of  living  writers. 

Up  to  this  point  George  Eliot  had  confined  herself  to  English 
country  life,  but  now  she  suddenly  abandoned  the  scenes  and  the 
people  with  whom  she  was  most  familiar  in  order  to  write  an  histor- 
ical novel.  It  was  in  1860,  while  traveling  in  Italy,  that  she  formed 
"the  great  project"  of  Romola, — a  mingling  of  fiction  and  moral 
philosophy,  against  the  background  of  the  mighty  Renaissance  move- 
ment. In  this  she  was  writing  of  things  of  which  she  had  no  personal 
knowledge,  and  the  book  cost  her  many  months  of  hard  and  depress- 
ing labor.  She  said  herself  that  she  was  a  young  woman  when  she 
began  the  work,  and  an  old  woman  when  she  finished  it.  Romola 
(1862-1863)  was  not  successful  with  the  public,  and  the  same  may 
be  said  of  Felix  Holt  the  Radical  (1866)  and  The  Spanish  Gypsy 
(1868).  The  last-named  work  was  the  result  of  the  author's  ambition 
to  write  a  dramatic  poem  which  should  duplicate  the  lesson  of  Rom- 
da  ;  and  for  the  purpose  of  gathering  material  she  visited  Spain, 
which  she  had  decided  upon  as  the  scene  of  her  poetical  effort.  With 
the  publication  of  Middlemarch  (1871-1872)  George  Eliot  came 
back  again  into  popular  favor,  though  this  work  is  less  spontaneous, 
and  more  labored  and  pedantic,  than  her  earlier  novels.  The  fault 
of  too  much  analysis  and  moralizing  was  even  more  conspicuous 
in  Daniel  Deronda  (1876),  which  she  regarded  as  her  greatest 
book.  Her  life  during  all  this  time  was  singularly  uneventful,  and 
the  chief  milestones  along  the  road  mark  the  publication  of  her 
successive  novels. 

During  all  the  years  of  her  literary  success  her  husband  Lewes 
had  been  a  most  sympathetic  friend  and  critic,  and  when  he  died,  in 
1878,  the  loss  seemed  to  be  more  than  she  could  bear.  Her  letters 
of  this  period  are  touching  in  their  loneliness  and  their  craving  for 


of  th 


508  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

sympathy.  Later  she  astonished  everybody  by  marrying  John  Walter 
Cross,  much  younger  than  herself,  who  is  known  as  her  biographer. 
"  Deep  down  below  there  is  a  river  of  sadness,  but  ...  I  am  able 
to  enjoy  my  newly  re-opened  life,"  writes  this  woman  of  sixty,  who, 
ever  since  she  was  the  girl  whom  we  know  as  Maggie  Tulliver,  must 
always  have  some  one  to  love  and  to  depend  upon.  Her  new  interest 
in  life  lasted  but  a  few  months,  for  she  died  in  December  of  the  same 
year  (1880).  One  of  the  best  indications  of  her  strength  and  her 
limitations  is  her  portrait,  with  its  strong  masculine  features,  sug- 
gesting both  by  resemblance  and  by  contrast  that  wonderful  por- 
trait of  Savonarola  which  hangs  over  his  old  desk  in  the  monastery 
at  Florence. 

Works  of  George  Eliot.  These  are  conveniently  divided  into 
three  groups,  corresponding  to  the  three  periods  of  her  life. 
The  first  group  includes  all  her  early  essays  and  miscellane- 
ous work,  from  her  translation  of  Strauss' s  Leben  Jesu,  in 
1846,  to  her  union  with  Lewes  in  1854.  The  second  group 
includes  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life,  Adam  Bede,  Mill  on  the 
Floss,  and  Silas  Marner,  all  published  between  1858  and  1 86 1 . 
These  four  novels  of  the  middle  period  are  founded  on  the 
author's  own  life  and  experience ;  their  scenes  are  laid  in  the 
country,  and  their  characters  are  taken  from  the  stolid  people 
of  the  Midlands,  with  whom  George  Eliot  had  been  familiar 
since  childhood.  They  are  probably  the  author's  most  endur- 
ing works.  They  have  a  naturalness,  a  spontaneity,  at  times 
a  flash  of  real  humor,  which  are  lacking  in  her  later  novels ; 
and  they  show  a  rapid  development  of  literary  power  which 
reaches  a  climax  in  Silas  Marner. 

The  novel  of  Italian  life,  Romola  (1862-1863),  marks  a 
transition  to  the  third  group,  which  includes  three  more 
novels, — Felix  Holt  (1866),  Middlemarch  (1871-1872),  Daniel 
Deronda  (1876), —  the  ambitious  dramatic  poem  The  Spanish 
Gypsy  (1868),  and  a  collection  of  miscellaneous  essays  called 
The  Impressions  of  Theophrastus  Such  (1879).  The  general 
impression  of  these  works  is  not  so  favorable  as  that  produced 
by  the  novels  of  the  middle  period.  They  are  more  labored 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  509 

and  less  interesting ;  they  contain  much  deep  reflection  and 
analysis  of  character,  but  less  observation,  less  delight  in  pic- 
turing country  life  as  it  is,  and  very  little  of  what  we  call  in- 
spiration. We  must  add,  however,  that  this  does  not  express 
a  unanimous  literary  judgment,  for  critics  are  not  wanting 
who  assert  that  Daniel  Deronda  is  the  highest  expression  of 
the  author's  genius. 

The  general  character  of  all  these  novels  may  be  described, 
in  the  author's  own  term,  as  psychologic  realism.  This  means 
General  Char- tnat  George  Eliot  sought  to  do  in  her  novels  what 
acter  Browning  attempted  in  his  poetry ;  that  is,  to  repre- 

sent the  inner  struggle  of  a  soul,  and  to  reveal  the  motives, 
impulses,  and  hereditary  influences  which  govern  human 
action.  Browning  generally  stops  when  he  tells  his  story,  and 
either  lets  you  draw  your  own  conclusion  or  else  gives  you 
his  in  a  few  striking  lines.  But  George  Eliot  is  not  content 
until  she  has  minutely  explained  the  motives  of  her  characters 
and  the  moral  lesson  to  be  learned  from  them.  Moreover,  it 
is  the  development  of  a  soul,  the  slow  growth  or  decline  of 
moral  power,  which  chiefly  interests  her.  Her  heroes  and 
heroines  differ  radically  from  those  of  Dickens  and  Thackeray 
in  this  respect,  —  that  when  we  meet  the  men  and  women 
of  the  latter  novelists,  their  characters  are  already  formed, 
and  we  are  reasonably  sure  what  they  will  do  under  given 
circumstances.  In  George  Eliot's  novels  the  characters  de- 
velop gradually  as  we  come  to  know  them.  They  go  from 
weakness  to  strength,  or  from  strength  to  weakness,  accord- 
ing to  the  works  that  they  do  and  the  thoughts  that  they 
cherish.  In  Romola,  for  instance,  Tito,  as  we  first  meet  him, 
may  be  either  good  or  bad,  and  we  know  not  whether  he  will 
finally  turn  to  the  right  hand  or  to  the  left.  As  time  passes, 
we  see  him  degenerate  steadily  because  he  follows  his  self- 
ish impulses,  while  Romola,  whose  character  is  at  first  only 
faintly  indicated,  grows  into  beauty  and  strength  with  every 
act  of  self-renunciation. 


510  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

In  these  two  characters,  Tito  and  Romola,  we  have  an 
epitome  of  our  author's  moral  teaching.  The  principle  of  law 
Moral  was  in  the  air  during  the  Victorian  era,  and  we 

Teaching  have  already  noted  how  deeply  Tennyson  was  influ- 
enced by  it.  With  George  Eliot  law  is  like  fate ;  it  over- 
whelms personal  freedom  and  inclination.  Moral  law  was  to 
her  as  inevitable,  as  automatic,  as  gravitation.  Tito's  degen- 
eration, and  the  sad  failure  of  Dorothea  and  Lydgate  in 
Middlemarch,  may  be  explained  as  simply  as  the  fall  of  an 
apple,  or  as  a  bruised  knee  when  a  man  loses  his  balance.  A 
certain  act  produces  a  definite  moral  effect  on  the  individual ; 
and  character  is  the  added  sum  of  all  the  acts  of  a  man's 
life,  — just  as  the  weight  of  a  body  is  the  sum  of  the  weights 
of  many  different  atoms  which  constitute  it.  The  matter  of 
rewards  and  punishments,  therefore,  needs  no  final  judge  or 
judgment,  since  these  things  take  care  of  themselves  auto- 
matically in  a  world  of  inviolable  moral  law. 

Perhaps  one  thing  more  should  be  added  to  the  general 
characteristics  of  George  Eliot's  novels,  —  they  are  all  rather 
depressing.  The  gladsomeness  of  life,  the  sunshine  of  smiles 
and  laughter,  is  denied  her.  It  is  said  that  once,  when  her 
husband  remarked  that  her  novels  were  all  essentially  sad, 
she  wept,  and  answered  that  she  must  describe  life  as  she 
had  found  it. 

What  to  Read.  George  Eliot's  first  stories  are  in  some  re- 
spects her  best,  though  her  literary  power  increases  during 
her  second  period,  culminating  in  Silas  Marner,  and  her  psy- 
chological analysis  is  more  evident  in  Daniel  Deronda.  On 
the  whole,  it  is  an  excellent  way  to  begin  with  the  freshness 
and  inspiration  of  the  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  and  read  her 
books  in  the  order  in  which  they  were  written.  In  the  first 
group  of  novels  Adam  Bede  is  the  most  natural,  and  probably 
interests  more  readers  than  all  the  others  combined.  The  Mill 
on  the  Floss  has  a  larger  personal  interest,  because  it  reflects 
much  of  George  Eliot's  history  and  the  scenes  and  the  friends 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 


Sir 


Silas  Marner 


of  her  early  life.  The  lack  of  proportion  in  this  story,  which 
gives  rather  too  much  space  to  the  girl-and-boy  experiences, 
is  naturally  explained  by  the  tendency  in  every  man  and 
woman  to  linger  over  early  memories. 

Silas  Marner  is  artistically  the  most  perfect  of  George 
Eliot's  novels,  and  we  venture  to  analyze  it  as  typical  of  her 
ideals  and  methods.  We  note  first  the  style,  which 
is  heavy  and  a  little  self-conscious,  lacking  the  vigor 
and  picturesqueness  of  Dickens,  and  the  grace  and  natural- 
ness of  Thackeray.  The  characters  are  the  common  people  of 
the  Midlands,  the  hero  being  a  linen  weaver,  a  lonely  outcast 
who  hoards  and  gloats  over  his  hard-earned  money,  is  robbed, 
thrown  into  utter  despair,  and  brought  back  to  life  and  happi- 
ness by  the  coming  of  an  abandoned  child  to  his  fire.  In  the 
development  of  her  story  the  author  shows  herself,  first,  a 
realist,  by  the  naturalness  of  her  characters  and  the  minute 
accuracy  with  which  she  reproduces  their  ways  and  even  the 
accents  of  their  speech ;  second,  a  psychologist,  by  the  con- 
tinual analysis  and  explanation  of  motives  ;  third,  a  moralist, 
by  showing  in  each  individual  the  action  and  reaction  of  uni- 
versal moral  forces,  and  especially  by  making  every  evil  act 
bring  inevitable  punishment  to  the  man  who  does  it.  Tragedy, 
therefore,  plays  a  large  part  in  the  story ;  for,  according  to 
George  Eliot,  tragedy  and  suffering  walk  close  behind  us,  or 
lurk  at  every  turn  in  the  road  of  life.  Like  all  her  novels, 
Silas  Marner  is  depressing.  We  turn  away  from  even  the 
wedding  of  Eppie  —  which  is  just  as  it  should  be  —  with  a 
sense  of  sadness  and  incompleteness.  Finally,  as  we  close  the 
book,  we  are  conscious  of  a  powerful  and  enduring  impression 
of  reality.  Silas,  the  poor  weaver ;  Godfrey  Cass,  the  well- 
meaning,  selfish  man  ;  Mr.  Macey,  the  garrulous  and  observ- 
ant parish  clerk ;  Dolly  Winthrop,  the  kind-hearted  country- 
woman who  cannot  understand  the  mysteries  of  religion  and 
so  interprets  God  in  terms  of  human  love,  —  these  are  real 
people,  whom  having  once  met  we  can  never  forget. 


512  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Romola  has  the  same  general  moral  theme  as  the  English 
novels  ;  but  the  scenes  are  entirely  different,  and  opinion  is 
divided  as  to  the  comparative  merit  of  the  work.  It 
is  a  study,  a  very  profound  study  of  moral  develop- 
ment in  one  character  and  of  moral  degeneracy  in  another. 
Its  characters  and  its  scenes  are  both  Italian,  and  the  action 
takes  place  during  a  critical  period  of  the  Renaissance  move- 
ment, when  Savonarola  was  at  the  height  of  his  power  in 
Florence.  Here  is  a  magnificent  theme  and  a  superb  back- 
ground for  a  great  novel,  and  George  Eliot  read  and  studied 
till  she  felt  sure  that  she  understood  the  place,  the  time,  and 
the  people  of  her  story.  Romola  is  therefore  interesting  read- 
ing, in  many  respects  the  most  interesting  of  her  works.  It 
has  been  called  one  of  our  greatest  historical  novels ;  but  as 
such  it  has  one  grievous  fault.  It  is  not  quite  true  to  the 
people  or  even  to  the  locality  which  it  endeavors  to  represent. 
One  who  reads  it  here,  in  a  new  and  different  land,  thinks 
only  of  the  story  and  of  the  novelist's  power ;  but  one  who 
reads  it  on  the  spot  which  it  describes,  and  amidst  the  life 
which  it  pictures,  is  continually  haunted  by  the  suggestion 
that  George  Eliot  understood  neither  Italy  nor  the  Italians. 
It  is  this  lack  of  harmony  with  Italian  life  itself  which  caused 
Morris  and  Rossetti  and  even  Browning,  with  all  his  admira- 
tion for  the  author,  to  lay  aside  the  book,  unable  to  read  it 
with  pleasure  or  profit.  In  a  word,  Romola  is  a  great  moral 
study  and  a  very  interesting  book ;  but  the  characters  are 
not  Italian,  and  the  novel  as  a  whole  lacks  the  strong  reality 
which  marks  George  Eliot's  English  studies. 

MINOR  NOVELISTS  OF  THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 

In  the  three  great  novelists  just  considered  we  have  an 
epitome  of  the  fiction  of  the  age,  Dickens  using  the  novel  to 
solve  social  problems,  Thackeray  to  paint  the  life  of  society 
as  he  saw  it,  and  George  Eliot  to  teach  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples of  morality.  The  influence  of  these  three  writers  is 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  513 

reflected  in  all  the  minor  novelists  of  the  Victorian  Age.  Thus, 
Dickens  is  reflected  in  Charles  Reade,  Thackeray  in  Anthony 
Trollope  and  the  Bronte  sisters,  and  George  Eliot's  psychol- 
ogy finds  artistic  expression  in  George  Meredith.  To  these 
social  and  moral  and  realistic  studies  we  should  add  the  ele- 
ment of  romance,  from  which  few  of  our  modern  novelists 
can  long  escape.  The  nineteenth  century,  which  began  with 
the  romanticism  of  Walter  Scott,  returns  to  its  first  love,  like 
a  man  glad  to  be  home,  in  its  delight  over  Blackmore's  Lorna 
Doone  and  the  romances  of  Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 

Charles  Reade.  In  his  fondness  for  stage  effects,  for  pic- 
turing the  romantic  side  of  common  life,  and  for  using  the 
novel  as  the  instrument  of  social  reform,  there  is  a  strong 
suggestion  of  Dickens  in  the  work  of  Charles  Reade  (1814- 
1884).  Thus  his  Peg  Woffington  is  a  study  of  stage  life  from 
behind  the  scenes  ;  A  Terrible  Temptation  is  a  study  of  social 
reforms  and  reformers  ;  and  Put  yourself  in  his  Place  is  the 
picture  of  a  workingman  who  struggles  against  the  injustice 
of  the  trades  unions.  His  masterpiece,  The  Cloister  and  the 
Hearth  (1861),  one  of  our  best  historical  novels,  is  a  some- 
what laborious  study  of  student  and  vagabond  life  in  Europe 
in  the  days  of  the  German  Renaissance.  It  has  small  resem- 
blance to  George  Eliot's  Romola,  whose  scene  is  laid  in  Italy 
during  the  same  period  ;  but  the  two  works  may  well  be  read 
in  succession,  as  the  efforts  of  two  very  different  novelists  of 
the  same  period  to  restore  the  life  of  an  age  long  past. 

Anthony  Trollope.  In  his  realism,  and  especially  in  his  con- 
ception of  the  novel  as  the  entertainment  of  an  idle  hour, 
Trollope  (1815-1882)  is  a  reflection  of  Thackeray.  It  would 
be  hard  to  find  a  better  duplicate  of  Becky  Sharp,  the  heroine 
of  Vanity  Fair,  for  instance,  than  is  found  in  Lizzie  Eustace, 
the  heroine  of  The  Eustace  Diamonds.  Trollope  was  the  most 
industrious  and  systematic  of  modern  novelists,  writing  a  defi- 
nite amount  each  day,  and  the  wide  range  of  his  characters 
suggests  the  Human  Comedy  of  Balzac.  His  masterpiece  is 


514  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Barchester  Towers  (1857).  This  is  a  study  of  life  in  a  cathe- 
dral town,  and  is  remarkable  for  its  minute  pictures  of  bishops 
and  clergymen,  with  their  families  and  dependents.  It  would 
be  well  to  read  this  novel  in  connection  with  The  Warden 
(1855),  The  Last  Chronicle  of  Parse t  (1867),  and  other  novels 
of  the  same  series,  since  the  scenes  and  characters  are  the 
same  in  all  these  books,  and  they  are  undoubtedly  the  best 
expression  of  the  author's  genius.  Hawthorne  says  of  his 
novels  :  "  They  precisely  suit  my  taste,  —  solid  and  substan- 
tial, and  .  .  .  just  as  real  as  if  some  giant  had  hewn  a  great 
lump  out  of  the  earth  and  put  it  under  a  glass  case,  with  all 
the  inhabitants  going  about  their  daily  business  and  not  sus- 
pecting that  they  were  being  made  a  show  of." 

Charlotte  Bronte.  We  have  another  suggestion  of  Thack- 
eray in  the  work  of  Charlotte  Bronte  (1816-1855).  She 
aimed  to  make  her  novels  a  realistic  picture  of  society,  but 
she  added  to  Thackeray's  realism  the  element  of  passionate 
and  somewhat  unbalanced  romanticism.  The  latter  element 
was  partly  the  expression  of  Miss  Bronte's  own  nature,  and 
partly  the  result  of  her  lonely  and  grief-stricken  life,  which 
was  darkened  by  a  succession  of  family  tragedies.  It  will  help 
us  to  understand  her  work  if  we  remember  that  both  Char- 
lotte Bronte  and  her  sister  Emily  1  turned  to  literature  because 
they  found  their  work  as  governess  and  teacher  unendurable, 
and  sought  to  relieve  the  loneliness  and  sadness  of  their  own 
lot  by  creating  a  new  world  of  the  imagination.  In  this  new 
world,  however,  the  sadness  of  the  old  remains,  and  all  the 
Bronte  novels  have  behind  them  an  aching  heart.  Charlotte 
Bronte's  best  known  work  is  Jane  Eyre  (1847),  which,  with 
all  its  faults,  is  a  powerful  and  fascinating  study  of  elemental 
love  and  hate,  reminding  us  vaguely  of  one  of  Marlowe's 

1  Emily  Bronte  (1818-1848)  was  only  a  little  less  gifted  than  her  famous  sister.  Her 
best  known  work  is  Wuthering  Heights  (1847),  a  strong  but  morbid  novel  of  love  and 
suffering.  Matthew  Arnold  said  of  her  that,  "  for  the  portrayal  of  passion,  vehemence, 
and  grief,"  Emily  Bronte  had  no  equal  save  Byron.  An  exquisite  picture  of  Emily  is 
given  in  Charlotte  Bronte's  novel  Shirley. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  515 

tragedies.  This  work  won  instant  favor  with  the  public,  and 
the  author  was  placed  in  the  front  rank  of  living  novelists. 
Aside  from  its  value  as  a  novel,  it  is  interesting,  in  many  of 
its  early  passages,  as  the  reflection  of  the  author's  own  life 
and  experience.  Shirley  (1849)  and  Villette  (1853)  make  up 
the  trio  of  novels  by  which  this  gifted  woman  is  generally 
remembered. 

Bulwer  Lytton.  Edward  Bulwer  Lytton  (1803-1873)  was 
an  extremely  versatile  writer,  who  tried  almost  every  kind  of 
novel  known  to  the  nineteenth  century.  In  his  early  life  he 
wrote  poems  and  dramas,  under  the  influence  of  Byron ;  but 
his  first  notable  work,  Pelham  (1828),  one  of  the  best  of  his 
novels,  was  a  kind  of  burlesque  on  the  Byronic  type  of  gentle- 
man. As  a  study  of  contemporary  manners  in  high  society, 
Pelham  has  a  suggestion  of  Thackeray,  and  the  resemblance 
is  more  noticeable  in  other  novels  of  the  same  type,  such 
as  Ernest  Maltravers  (1837),  The  Caxtons  (1848-1849),  My 
Novel  (1853),  and  Kenelm  Chillingly  (1873).  We  have  a 
suggestion  of  Dickens  in  at  least  two  of  Lytton's  novels, 
Paul  Clifford  and  Eugene  Aram,  the  heroes  of  which  are 
criminals,  pictured  as  the  victims  rather  than  as  the  oppressors 
of  society.  Lytton  essayed  also,  with  considerable  popular 
success,  the  romantic  novel  in  The  Pilgrims  of  the  Rhine  and 
Zanoni,  and  tried  the  ghost  story  in  The  Haunted  and  the 
Haunters.  His  fame  at  the  present  day  rests  largely  upon 
his  historical  novels,  in  imitation  of  Walter  Scott,  The  Last 
Days  of  Pompeii  (1834),  Rienzi  (1835),  and  Harold  (1848), 
the  last  being  his  most  ambitious  attempt  to  make  the  novel 
the  supplement  of  history.  In  all  his  novels  Lytton  is  inclined 
to  sentimentalism  and  sensationalism,  and  his  works,  though 
generally  interesting,  seem  hardly  worthy  of  a  high  place  in 
the  history  of  fiction. 

Kingsley.  Entirely  different  in  spirit  are  the  novels  of  the 
scholarly  clergyman,  Charles  Kingsley  (1819-1875).  His 
works  naturally  divide  themselves  into  three  classes.  In  the 


5 1 6  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

first  are  his  social  studies  and  problem  novels,  such  as  Alton 
Locke  (1850),  having  for  its  hero  a  London  tailor  and  poet, 
and  Yeast  (1848),  which  deals  with  the  problem  of  the  agri- 
cultural laborer.  In  the  second  class  are  his  historical  novels, 
Hereward  the  Wake,  Hypatia,  and  Westward  Ho!  Hypatia 
is  a  dramatic  story  of  Christianity  in  contact  with  paganism, 
having  its  scene  laid  in  Alexandria  at  the  beginning  of 
the  fifth  century.  Westward  Ho!  (1855),  his  best  known 
work,  is  a  stirring  tale  of  English  conquest  by  land  and  sea  in 
the  days  of  Elizabeth.  In  the  third  class  are  his  various  mis- 
cellaneous works,  not  the  least  of  which  is  Water-Babies,  a 
fascinating  story  of  a  chimney  sweep,  which  mothers  read  to 
their  children  at  bedtime,  —  to  the  great  delight  of  the  round- 
eyed  little  listeners  under  the  counterpane. 

Mrs.  Gaskell.  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Gaskell  (1810-1865)  began, 
like  Kingsley,  with  the  idea  of  making  the  novel  the  instru- 
ment of  social  reform.  As  the  wife  of  a  clergyman  in  Man- 
chester, she  had  come  in  close  contact  with  the  struggles  and 
ideals  of  the  industrial  poor  of  a  great  city,  and  she  reflected 
her  sympathy  as  well  as  her  observation  in  Mary  Barton 
(1848)  and  in  North  and  South  (1855).  Between  these  two 
problem  novels  she  published  her  masterpiece,  Cranford,  in 
1853.  The  original  of  this  country  village,  which  is  given 
over  to  spinsters,  is  undoubtedly  Knutsford,  in  Cheshire, 
where  Mrs.  Gaskell  had  spent  her  childhood.  The  sympathy, 
the  keen  observation,  and  the  gentle  humor  with  which  the 
small  affairs  of  a  country  village  are  described  make  Cranford 
one  of  the  most  delightful  stories  in  the  English  language. 
We  are  indebted  to  Mrs.  Gaskell  also  for  the  Life  of  Charlotte 
Bront'e\  which  is  one  of  our  best  biographies. 

Blackmore.  Richard  Doddridge  Blackmore  (1825-1900) 
was  a  prolific  writer,  but  he  owes  his  fame  almost  entirely 
to  one  splendid  novel,  Lorna  Doone,  which  was  published  in 
1 869.  The  scene  of  this  fascinating  romance  is  laid  in  Exmoor 
in  the  seventeenth  century.  The  story  abounds  in  romantic 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  517 

scenes  and  incidents  ;  its  descriptions  of  natural  scenery  are 
unsurpassed  ;  the  rhythmic  language  is  at  times  almost  equal 
to  poetry ;  and  the  whole  tone  of  the  book  is  wholesome  and 
refreshing.  Altogether  it  would  be  hard  to  find  a  more  de- 
lightful romance  in  any  language,  and  it  well  deserves  the 
place  it  has  won  as  one  of  the  classics  of  our  literature. 
Other  works  of  Blackmore  which  will  repay  the  reader  are 
Clara  Vanghan  (1864),  his  first  novel,  The  Maid  of  Sker 
(1872),  Springhaven  (1887),  Perly  cross  (1894),  and  Tales  from 
the  Telling  House  ( 1 896) ;  but  none  of  these,  though  he 
counted  them  his  best  work,  has  met  with  the  same  favor  as 
Lorna  Doone. 

Meredith.  So  much  does  George  Meredith  (1828-1909) 
belong  to  our  own  day  that  it  is  difficult  to  think  of  him  as 
one  of  the  Victorian  novelists.  His  first  notable  work,  The 
Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel,  was  published  in  1859,  ^e  same 
year  as  George  Eliot's  Adam  Bede ;  but  it  was  not  till  the 
publication  of  Diana  of  tlie  Crossways,  in  1885,  that  his  power 
as  a  novelist  was  widely  recognized.  He  resembles  Browning 
not  only  in  his  condensed  style,  packed  with  thought,  but 
also  in  this  respect,  —  that  he  labored  for  years  in  obscurity, 
and  after  much  of  his  best  work  was  published  and  apparently 
forgotten  he  slowly  won  the  leading  place  in  English  fiction. 
We  are  still  too  near  him  to  speak  of  the  permanence  of  his 
work,  but  a  casual  reading  of  any  of  his  novels  suggests  a 
comparison  and  a  contrast  with  George  Eliot.  Like  her,  he 
is  a  realist  and  a  psychologist ;  but  while  George  Eliot  uses 
tragedy  to  teach  a  moral  lesson,  Meredith  depends  more  upon 
comedy,  making  vice  not  terrible  but  ridiculous.  For  the  hero 
or  heroine  of  her  novel  George  Eliot  invariably  takes  an  indi- 
vidual, and  shows  in  each  one  the  play  of  universal  moral 
forces.  Meredith  constructs  a  type-man  as  a  hero,  and  makes 
this  type  express  his  purpose  and  meaning.  So  his  characters 
seldom  speak  naturally,  as  George  Eliot's  do  ;  they  are  more 
like  Browning's  characters  in  packing  a  whole  paragraph  into 


5i8  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

a  single  sentence  or  an  exclamation.  On  account  of  his  enig- 
matic style  and  his  psychology,  Meredith  will  never  be  popu- 
lar; but  by  thoughtful  men  and  women  he  will  probably  be 
ranked  among  our  greatest  writers  of  fiction.  The  simplest 
and  easiest  of  his  novels  for  a  beginner  is  The  Adventures  of 
Henry  Richmond  (1871).  Among  the  best  of  his  works,  be- 
sides the  two  mentioned  above,  are  Beauchamp's  Career  (1876) 
and  The  Egoist  (1879).  The  latter  is,  in  our  personal  judg- 
ment, one  of  the  strongest  and  most  convincing  novels  of  the 
Victorian  Age. 

Hardy.  Thomas  Hardy  (1840-  )  seems,  like  Meredith, 
to  belong  to  the  present  rather  than  to  a  past  age,  and  an  in- 
teresting comparison  may  be  drawn  between  these  two  novel- 
ists. In  style,  Meredith  is  obscure  and  difficult,  while  Hardy 
is  direct  and  simple,  aiming  at  realism  in  all  things.  Meredith 
makes  man  the  most  important  phenomenon  in  the  universe } 
and  the  struggles  of  men  are  brightened  by  the  hope  of  vic- 
tory. Hardy  makes  man  an  insignificant  part  of  the  world, 
struggling  against  powers  greater  than  himself,  —  sometimes 
against  systems  which  he  cannot  reach  or  influence,  some- 
times against  a  kind  of  grim  world-spirit  who  delights  in  mak- 
ing human  affairs  go  wrong.  He  is,  therefore,  hardly  a  real- 
ist, but  rather  a  man  blinded  by  pessimism ;  and  his  novels, 
though  generally  powerful  and  sometimes  fascinating,  are  not 
pleasant  or  wholesome  reading.  From  the  reader's  view  point 
some  of  his  earlier  works,  like  the  idyllic  love  story  Under  the 
Greenwood  Tree  (1872)  and  A  Pair  of  Blue  Eyes  (1873),  are 
the  most  interesting.  Hardy  became  noted,  however,  when 
he  published  Far  from  the  Madding  Crowd,  a  book  which, 
when  it  appeared  anonymously  in  the  Cornhill  Magazine 
(1874),  was  generally  attributed  to  George  Eliot,  for  the  sim- 
ple reason  that  no  other  novelist  was  supposed  to  be  capa- 
ble of  writing  it.  The  Return  of  the  Native  (1878)  and  The 
Woodlanders  are  generally  regarded  as  Hardy's  masterpieces  ; 
but  two  novels  of  our  own  day,  Tess  of  the  U  Ubervilles  (1891) 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  519 

e  the  Obscure  (1895),  are  better  expressions  of  Hardy's 
literary  art  and  of  his  gloomy  philosophy. 

Stevenson.  In  pleasing  contrast  with  Hardy  is  Robert  Louis 
Stevenson  (1850-1894),  a  brave,  cheery,  wholesome  spirit, 
who  has  made  us  all  braver  and  cheerier  by  what  he  has 
written.  Aside  from  their  intrinsic  value,  Stevenson's  novels 
are  interesting  in  this  respect,  —  that  they  mark  a  return  to 
the  pure  romanticism  of  Walter  Scott.  The  novel  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  had,  as  we  have  shown,  a  very  definite  pur- 
pose. It  aimed  not  only  to  represent  life  but  to  correct  it, 
and  to  offer  a  solution  to  pressing  moral  and  social  problems. 
At  the  end  of  the  century  Hardy's  gloom  in  the  face  of  mod- 
ern social  conditions  became  oppressive,  and  Stevenson  broke 
away  from  it  into  that  land  of  delightful  romance  in  which 
youth  finds  an  answer  to  all  its  questions.  Problems  differ, 
but  youth  is  ever  the  same,  and  therefore  Stevenson  will 
probably  be  regarded  by  future  generations  as  one  of  our 
most  enduring  writers.  To  his  life,  with  its  "heroically 
happy  "  struggle,  first  against  poverty,  then  against  physical 
illness,  it  is  impossible  to  do  justice  in  a  short  article.  Even 
a  longer  biography  is  inadequate,  for  Stevenson's  spirit,  not 
the  incidents  of  his  life,  is  the  important  thing  ;  and  the 
spirit  has  no  biographer.  Though  he  had  written  much  better 
work  earlier,  he  first  gained  fame  by  his  Treasure  Island 
(1883),  an  absorbing  story  of  pirates  and  of  a  hunt  for  buried 
gold.  Dr.  Jeky II  and  Mr.  Hyde  (1886)  is  a  profound  ethical 
parable,  in  which,  however,  Stevenson  leaves  the  psychology 
and  the  minute  analysis  of  character  to  his  readers,  and  makes 
the  story  the  chief  thing  in  his  novel.  Kidnapped  (1886), 
The  Master  of  Ballantrae  (1889),  and  David  Balfour  (1893) 
are  novels  of  adventure,  giving  us  vivid  pictures  of  Scotch 
life.  Two  romances  left  unfinished  by  his  early  death  in 
Samoa  are  The  Weir  of  Hermiston  and  St.  Ives.  The  latter 
was  finished  by  Quiller-Couch  in  1897  ;  the  former  is  happily 
just  as  Stevenson  left  it,  and  though  unfinished  is  generally 


520  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

regarded  as  his  masterpiece.  In  addition  to  these  novels, 
Stevenson  wrote  a  large  number  of  essays,  the  best  of  which 
are  collected  in  Virginibus  Puerisque,  Familiar  Studies  of 
Men  and  Books,  and  Memories  and  Portraits.  Delightful 
sketches  of  his  travels  are  found  in  An  Inland  Voyage  (1878), 
Travels  with  a  Donkey  (1879),  Across  the  Plains  (1892),  and 
The  Amateur  Emigrant  (1894).  Underivoods  (1887)  is  an  ex- 
quisite little  volume  of  poetry,  and  A  Child '  s  Garden  of  Verses 
is  one  of  the  books  that  mothers  will  always  keep  to  read  to 
their  children. 

In  all  his  books  Stevenson  gives  the  impression  of  a  man 
at  play  rather  than  at  work,  and  the  reader  soon  shares  in  the 
happy  spirit  of  the  author.  Because  of  his  beautiful  personal- 
ity, and  because  of  the  love  and  admiration  he  awakened  for 
himself  in  multitudes  of  readers,  we  are  naturally  inclined  to 
exaggerate  his  importance  as  a  writer.  However  that  may  be, 
a  study  of  his  works  shows  him  to  be  a  consummate  literary 
artist.  His  style  is  always  simple,  often  perfect,  and  both  in 
his  manner  and  in  his  matter  he  exercises  a  profound  influence 
on  the  writers  of  the  present  generation*. 

III.    ESSAYISTS  OF  THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 
THOMAS  BABINGTON  MACAULAY  (1800-1859) 

Macaulay  is  one  of  the  most  typical  figures  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  Though  not  a  great  writer,  if  we  compare 
him  with  Browning  or  Thackeray,  he  was  more  closely  asso- 
ciated than  any  of  his  literary  contemporaries  with  the  social 
and  political  struggles  of  the  age.  While  Carlyle  was  pro- 
claiming the  gospel  of  labor,  and  Dickens  writing  novels  to 
better  the  condition  of  the  poor,  Macaulay  went  vigorously  to 
work  on  what  he  thought  to  be  the  most  important  task  of 
the  hour,  and  by  his  brilliant  speeches  did  perhaps  more  than 
any  other  single  man  to  force  the  passage  of  the  famous  Re- 
form Bill.  Like  many  of  the  Elizabethans,  he  was  a  practical 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  521 

man  of  affairs  rather  than  a  literary  man,  and  though  we 
miss  in  his  writings  the  imagination  and  the  spiritual  insight 
which  stamp  the  literary  genius,  we  have  the  impression 
always  of  a  keen,  practical,  honest  mind,  which  looks  at 
present  problems  in  the  light  of  past  experience.  Moreover, 
the  man  himself,  with  his  marvelous  mind,  his  happy  spirit, 
and  his  absolute  integrity  of  character,  is  an  inspiration  to 
better  living. 

!/ 

Life.  Macaulay  was  born  at  Rothley  Temple,  Leicestershire,  in 
1800.  His  father,  of  Scotch  descent,  was  at  one  time  governor  of 
the  Sierra  Leone  colony  for  liberated  negroes,  and  devoted  a  large 
part  of  his  life  to  the  abolition  of  the  slave  trade.  His  mother,  of 
Quaker  parentage,  was  a  brilliant,  sensitive  woman,  whose  character 
is  reflected  in  that  of  her  son.  The  influence  of  these  two,  and  the 
son's  loyal  devotion  to  his  family,  can  best  be  read  in  Trevelyan's 
interesting  biography. 

As  a  child,  Macaulay  is  strongly  suggestive  of  Coleridge.  At  three 
years  of  age  he  began  to  read  eagerly ;  at  five  he  "  talked  like  a 
book";  at  ten  he  had  written  a  compendium  of  universal  history, 
besides  various  hymns,  verse  romances,  arguments  for  Christianity, 
and  one  ambitious  epic  poem.  The  habit  of  rapid  reading,  begun  in 
childhood,  continued  throughout  his  life,  and  the  number  and  vari- 
ety of  books  which  he  read  is  almost  incredible.  His  memory  was 
phenomenal.  He  could  repeat  long  poems  and  essays  after  a  single 
reading ;  he  could  quote  not  only  passages  but  the  greater  part  of 
many  books,  including  Pilgrim's  Progress,  Paradise  Lost,  and  vari- 
ous novels  like  Clarissa.  Once,  to  test  his  memory,  he  recited  two 
newspaper  poems  which  he  had  read  in  a  coffeehouse  forty  years  be- 
fore, and  which  he  had  never  thought  of  in  the  interval. 

At  twelve  years  of  age  this  remarkable  boy  was  sent  to  a  private 
school  at  Little  Shelford,  and  at  eighteen  he  entered  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge.  Here  he  made  a  reputation  as  a  classical  scholar  and  a 
brilliant  talker,  but  made  a  failure  of  his  mathematics.  In  a  letter 
to  his  mother  he  wrote  :  "Oh  for  words  to  express  my  abomination 
of  that  science.  .  .  .  Discipline  of  the  mind  !  Say  rather  starvation, 
confinement,  torture,  annihilation  !  "  We  quote  this  as  a  commen- 
tary on  Macaulay's  later  writings,  which  are  frequently  lacking  in  the 
exactness  and  the  logical  sequence  of  the  science  which  he  detested. 


exac 


522  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

After  his  college  course  Macaulay  studied  law,  was  admitted  to 
the  bar,  devoted  himself  largely  to  politics,  entered  Parliament  in 
1830,  and  almost  immediately  won  a  reputation  as  the  best  debater 
and  the  most  eloquent  speaker  of  the  Liberal  or  Whig  party.  Glad- 
stone says  of  him  :  "  Whenever  he  arose  to  speak  it  was  a  summons 
like  a  trumpet  call  to  fill  the  benches."  At  the  time  of  his  election 
he  was  poor,  and  the  loss  of  his  father's  property  threw  upon  him 
the  support  of  his  brothers  and  sisters ;  but  he  took  up  the  burden 
with  cheerful  courage,  and  by  his  own  efforts  soon  placed  himself  and 
his  family  in  comfort.  His  political  progress  was  rapid,  and  was  due 
not  to  favoritism  or  intrigue,  but  to  his  ability,  his  hard  work,  and  his 
sterling  character.  He  was  several  times  elected  to  Parliament,  was 

legal  adviser  to  the  Supreme  Coun- 
cil of  India,  was  a  member  of  the 
cabinet,  and  declined  many  offices 
for  which  other  men  labor  a  lifetime. 
In  1857  his  great  ability  and  services 
to  his  country  were  recognized  by  his 
being  raised  to  the  peerage  with  the 
title  of  Baron  Macaulay  of  Rothley, 
Macaulay 's  literary  work  began  in 
college  with  the  contribution  of  vari- 
ous ballads  and  essays  to  the  maga- 
zines. In  his  later  life  practical  affairs 
claimed  the  greater  part  of  his  time, 
and  his  brilliant  essays  were  written 

THOMAS  BABINGTON  MACAULAY  .  .  .  .    .  .    ,  , 

m  the  early  morning  or  late  at  night. 

His  famous  Essay  on  Milton  appeared  in  the  Edinburgh  Review  in 
1825.  It  created  a  sensation,  and  Macaulay,  having  gained  the  ear  of 
the  public,  never  once  lost  it  during  the  twenty  years  in  which  he  was 
a  contributor  to  the  magazines.  His  Lays  of  Ancient  Rome  appeared 
in  1842,  and  in  the  following  year  three  volumes  of  his  collected 
Essays.  In  1847  ne  l°st  m's  seat  m  Parliament,  temporarily,  through 
his  zealous  efforts  in  behalf  of  religious  toleration ;  and  the  loss  was 
most  fortunate,  since  it  gave  him  opportunity  to  begin  his  History 
of  England,  —  a  monumental  work  which  he  had  been  planning  for 
many  years.  The  first  two  volumes  appeared  in  1848,  and  their 
success  can  be  compared  only  to  that  of  the  most  popular  novels. 
The  third  and  fourth  volumes  of  the  History  (1855)  were  even 
more  successful,  and  Macaulay  was  hard  at  work  on  the  remaining 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  523 

volumes  when  he  died,  quite  suddenly,  in  1859.  He  was  buried,  near 
Addison,  in  the  Poets'  Corner  of  Westminster  Abbey.  A  paragraph 
from  one  of  his  letters,  written  at  the  height  of  his  fame  and  influ- 
ence, may  give  us  an  insight  into  his  life  and  work : 

I  can  truly  say  that  I  have  not,  for  many  years,  been  so  happy  as  I 
am  at  present.  ...  I  am  free.  I  am  independent.  I  am  in  Parliament, 
as  honorably  seated  as  man  can  be.  My  family  is  comfortably  off.  I 
have  leisure  for  literature,  yet  I  am  not  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  writ- 
ing for  money.  If  I  had  to  choose  a  lot  from  all  that  there  are  in  human 
life,  I  am  not  sure  that  I  should  prefer  any  to  that  which  has  fallen  to 
me.  I  am  sincerely  and  thoroughly  contented. 

Works  of  Macaulay.  Macaulay  is  famous  in  literature  for 
his  essays,  for  his  martial  ballads,  and  for  his  History  of  Eng- 
Essay  on  land.  His  first  important  work,  the  Essay  on  Mil- 
Milton  j0n  (1825),  is  worthy  of  study  not  only  for  itself, 

as  a  critical  estimate  of  the  Puritan  poet,  but  as  a  key  to  all 
Macaulay's  writings.  Here,  first  of  all,  is  an  interesting  work, 
which,  however  much  we  differ  from  the  author's  opinion, 
holds  our  attention  and  generally  makes  us  regret  that  the 
end  comes  so  soon.  The  second  thing  to  note  is  the  his- 
torical flavor  of  the  essay.  We  study  not  only  Milton,  but 
also  the  times  in  which  he  lived,  and  the  great  movements  of 
which  be  was  a  part.  History  and  literature  properly  belong 
together,  and  Macaulay  was  one  of  the  first  writers  to  explain 
the  historical  conditions  which  partly  account  for  a  writer's 
work  and  influence.  The  third  thing  to  note  is  Macaulay's 
enthusiasm  for  his  subject,  —  an  enthusiasm  which  is  often 
partisan,  but  which  we  gladly  share  for  tbe  moment  as  we 
follow  the  breathless  narrative.  Macaulay  generally  makes  a 
hero  of  his  man,  shows  him  battling  against  odds,  and  the 
heroic  side  of  our  own  nature  awakens  and  responds  to  the 
author's  plea.  The  fourth,  and  perhaps  most  characteristic 
thing  in  the  essay  is  the  style,  which  is  remarkably  clear, 
forceful,  and  convincing.  Jeffrey,  the  editor  of  the  Edinburgh 
Review,  wrote  enthusiastically  when  he  received  the  manu- 
script, "The  more  I  think,  tbe  less  I  can  conceive  where  you 


524  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

picked  up  that  style."  We  still  share  in  the  editor's  wonder; 
but  the  more  we  think,  the  less  we  conceive  that  such  a  style 
could  be  picked  up.  It  was  partly  the  result  of  a  well-stored 
mind,  partly  of  unconscious  imitation  of  other  writers,  and 
partly  of  that  natural  talent  for  clear  speaking  and  writing 
which  is  manifest  in  all  Macaulay's  work. 

In  the  remaining  essays  we  find  the  same  general  qualities 
which   characterize   Macaulay's  first  attempt.   They  cover  a 

wide  range  of  subjects,  but  they  may  be  divided 
Other  Essays  .  J  ••".«• 

into  two  general  classes,  the  literary  or  critical,  and 

the  historical.  Of  the  literary  essays  the  best  are  those  on 
Milton,  Addison,  Goldsmith,  Byron,  Dryden,  Leigh  Hunt, 
Bunyan,  Bacon,  and  Johnson.  Among  the  best  known  of  the 
historical  essays  are  those  on  Lord  Clive,  Chatham,  Warren 
Hastings,  Hallam's  Constitutional  History,  Von  Ranke's  His- 
tory of  the  Papacy,  Frederick  the  Great,  Horace  Walpole, 
William  Pitt,  Sir  William  Temple,  Machiavelli,  and  Mirabeau. 
Most  of  these  were  produced  in  the  vigor  of  young  manhood, 
between  1825  and  1845,  while  the  writer  was  busy  with  practi- 
cal affairs  of  state.  They  are  often  one-sided  and  inaccurate,  but 
always  interesting,  and  from  them  a  large  number  of  busy  peo- 
ple have  derived  their  first  knowledge  of  history  and  literature. 
The  best  of  Macaulay's  poetical  work  is  found  in  the  Lays 
of  Ancient  Rome  (1842),  a  collection  of  ballads  in  the  style  of 
Lays  of  An-  Scott,  which  sing  of  the  old  heroic  days  of  the 
cientRome  Roman  republic.  The  ballad  does  not  require  much 
thought  or  emotion.  It  demands  clearness,  vigor,  enthusiasm, 
action ;  and  it  suited  Macaulay's  genius  perfectly.  He  was, 
however,  much  more  careful  than  other  ballad  writers  in  mak- 
ing his  narrative  true  to  tradition.  The  stirring  martial  spirit 
of  these  ballads,  their  fine  workmanship,  and  their  appeal  to 
courage  and  patriotism  made  them  instantly  popular.  Even 
to-day,  after  more  than  fifty  years,  such  ballads  as  those  on 
Virginius  and  Horatius  at  the  Bridge  are  favorite  pieces  in 
many  school  readers. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  525 

The  History  of  England,  Macaulay's  masterpiece,  is  still 
one  of  the  most  popular  historical  works  in  the  English  lan- 
History  of  guage-  Originally  it  was  intended  to  cover  the  pe- 
Engiand  Tiod  from  the  accession  of  James  II,  in  1685,  to  the 
death  of  George  IV,  in  1830.  Only  five  volumes  of  the  work 
were  finished,  and  so  thoroughly  did  Macaulay  go  into  details 
that  these  five  volumes  cover  only  sixteen  years.  It  has  been 
estimated  that  to  complete  the  work  on  the  same  scale  would 
require  some  fifty  volumes  and  the  labor  of  one  man  for  over 
a  century. 

In  his  historical  method  Macaulay  suggests  Gibbon.  His 
own  knowledge  of  history  was  very  great,  but  before  writing 
he  read  numberless  pages,  consulted  original  documents,  and 
visited  the  scenes  which  he  intended  to  describe.  Thackeray's 
remark,  that  "  Macaulay  reads  twenty  books  to  write  a  sen- 
tence and  travels  one  hundred  miles  to  make  a  line  of 
description,"  is,  in  view  of  his  industry,  a  well- war  ranted 
exaggeration. 

As  in  his  literary  essays,  he  is  fond  of  making  heroes,  and 
he  throws  himself  so  heartily  into  the  spirit  of  the  scene  he  is 
describing  that  his  word  pictures  almost  startle  us  by  their 
vivid  reality.  The  story  of  Monmouth's  rebellion,  for  instance, 
or  the  trial  of  the  seven  bishops,  is  as  fascinating  as  the  best 
chapters  of  Scott's  historical  novels. 

While  Macaulay's  search  for  original  sources  of  informa- 
tion suggests  the  scientific  historian,  his  use  of  his  material 
is  much  more  like  that  of  a  novelist  or  playwright.  In  his 
essay  on  Machiavelli  he  writes  :  "The  best  portraits  are  per- 
haps those  in  which  there  is  a  slight  mixture  of  caricature, 
and  we  are  not  certain  that  the  best  histories  are  not  those 
in  which  a  little  of  the  exaggeration  of  fictitious  narrative  is 
judiciously  employed.  Something  is  lost  in  accuracy,  but 
much  is  gained  in  effect." 1  Whether  this  estimate  of  historical 
writing  be  true  or  false,  Macaulay  employed  it  in  his  own 

1  Essays,  Riverside  edition,  I,  318. 


526  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

work  and  made  his  narrative  as  absorbing  as  a  novel.  To  all 
his  characters  he  gives  the  reality  of  flesh  and  blood,  and  in 
his  own  words  he  "shows  us  over  their  houses  and  seats  us 
at  their  tables."  All  that  is  excellent,  but  it  has  its  disad- 
vantages. In  his  admiration  for  heroism,  Macaulay  makes 
some  of  his  characters  too  good  and  others  too  bad.  In  his 
zeal  for  details  he  misses  the  importance  of  great  movements, 
and  of  great  leaders  who  are  accustomed  to  ignore  details  ; 
and  in  his  joy  of  describing  events  he  often  loses  sight  of 
underlying  causes.  In  a  word,  he  is  without  historical  insight, 
and  his  work,  though  fascinating,  is  seldom  placed  among,  the 
reliable  histories  of  England. 

General  Characteristics.  To  the  reader  who  studies  Macau- 
lay's  brilliant  essays  and  a  few  chosen  chapters  of  his  His- 
tory, three  things  soon  become  manifest.  First,  Macaulay's 
art  is  that  of  a  public  speaker  rather  than  that  of  a  literary 
man.  He  has  a  wonderful  command  of  language,  and  he  makes 
his  meaning  clear  by  striking  phrases,  vigorous  antitheses, 
anecdotes,  and  illustrations.  His  style  is  so  clear  that  "he 
who  runs  may  read,"  and  from  beginning  to  end  he  never 
loses  the  attention  of  his  readers.  Second,  Macaulay's  good 
spirits  and  enthusiasm  are  contagious.  As  he  said  himself, 
he  wrote  "out  of  a  full  head,"  chiefly  for  his  own  pleasure  or 
recreation ;  and  one  who  writes  joyously  generally  awakens 
a  sense  of  pleasure  in  his  readers.  Third,  Macaulay  has  "  the 
defect  of  his  qualities."  He  reads  and  remembers  so  much 
that  he  has  no  time  to  think  or  to  form  settled  opinions.  As 
Gladstone  said,  Macaulay  is  "  always  conversing  or  recollect- 
ing or  reading  or  composing,  but  reflecting  never."  So  he 
wrote  his  brilliant  Essay  on  Milton,  which  took  all  England 
by  storm,  and  said  of  it  afterward  that  it  contained  "  scarcely 
a  paragraph  which  his  mature  judgment  approved."  Whether 
he  speaks  or  writes,  he  has  always  before  him  an  eager  audi- 
ence, and  he  feels  within  him  the  born  orator's  power  to  hold 
and  fascinate.  So  he  gives  loose  rein  to  his  enthusiasm,  quotes 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  527 

from  a  hundred  books,  and  in  his  delight  at  entertaining  us 
forgets  that  the  first  quality  of  a  critical  or  historical  work  is 
to  be  accurate,  and  the  second  to  be  interesting. 

THOMAS  CARLYLE  (1795-1881) 

In  marked  contrast  with  Macaulay,  the  brilliant  and  cheer- 
ful essayist,  is  Thomas  Carlyle,  the  prophet  and  censor  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  Macaulay  is  the  practical  man  of  affairs, 
helping  and  rejoicing  in  the  progress  of  his  beloved  England. 
Carlyle  lives  apart  from  all  practical  interests,  looks  with  dis- 
trust on  the  progress  of  his  age,  and  tells  men  that  truth, 
justice,  and  immortality  are  the  only  worthy  objects  of  human 
endeavor.  Macaulay  is  delighted  with  material  comforts  ;  he 
is  most  at  home  in  brilliant  and  fashionable  company ;  and 
he  writes,  even  when  ill  and  suffering,  with  unfailing  hopeful- 
ness and  good  nature.  Carlyle  is  like  a  Hebrew  prophet  just 
in  from  the  desert,  and  the  burden  of  his  message  is,  "  Woe 
to  them  that  are  at  ease  in  Zion  !  "  Both  men  are,  in  differ- 
ent ways,  typical  of  the  century,  and  somewhere  between  the 
two  extremes  —  the  practical,  helpful  activity  of  Macaulay 
and  the  spiritual  agony  and  conflict  of  Carlyle  —  we  shall  find 
the  measure  of  an  age  which  has  left  the  deepest  impress 
upon  our  own. 

Life  of  Carlyle.  Carlyle  was  born  at  Ecclefechan,  Dumfriesshire, 
in  1795,  a  few  months  before  Burns's  death,  and  before  Scott  had 
published  his  first  work.  Like  Burns,  he  came  of  peasant  stock,  — 
strong,  simple,  God-fearing  folk,  whose  influence  in  Carlyle's  later 
life  is  beyond  calculation.  Of  his  mother  he  says,  "  She  was  too  mild 
and  peaceful  for  the  planet  she  lived  in  ";  and  of  his  father,  a  stone 
mason,  he  writes,  "  Could  I  write  my  books  as  he  built  his  houses, 
walk  my  way  so  manfully  through  this  shadow  world,  and  leave  it 
with  so  little  blame,  it  were  more  than  all  my  hopes." 

Of  Carlyle's  early  school  life  we  have  some  interesting  glimpses 
in  Sartor  Resartus.  At  nine  years  he  entered  the  Annan  grammar 
school,  where  he  was  bullied  by  the  older  boys,  who  nicknamed  him 


528 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


Tom  the  Tearful.  For  the  teachers  of  those  days  he  has  only  ridi- 
cule, calling  them  "hide-bound  pedants,"  and  he  calls  the  school 
by  the  suggestive  German  name  of  Hinterschlag  Gymnasium.  At 
the  wish  of  his  parents,  who  intended  Carlyle  for  the  ministry,  he  en- 
dured this  hateful  school  life  till  1809,  when  he  entered  Edinburgh 
University.  There  he  spent  five  miserable  years,  of  which  his  own 
record  is  :  "  I  was  without  friends,  experience,  or  connection  in  the 
sphere  of  human  business,  was  of  sly  humor,  proud  enough  and  to 
spare,  and  had  begun  my  long  curriculum  of  dyspepsia."  This  nag- 
ging illness  was  the  cause 
of  much  of  that  irritability 
of  temper  which  frequently 
led  him  to  scold  the  pub- 
lic, and  for  which  he  has 
been  harshly  handled  by 
unfriendly  critics. 

The  period  following  his 
university  course  was  one 
of  storm  and  stress  for  Car- 
lyle. Much  to  the  grief  of 
the  father  whom  he  loved, 
he  had  given  up  the  idea 
of  entering  the  ministry. 
Wherever  he  turned, doubts 
like  a  thick  fog  surrounded 
him, — doubts  of  God,  of 
his  fellow-men,  of  human 


progress, 


He 


UNIVERSITY    OF    EDINBURGH 


of  himself. 

was  poor,  and  to  earn  an 
honest  living  was  his  first 
problem.  He  tried  successively  teaching  school,  tutoring,  the  study 
of  law,  and  writing  miscellaneous  articles  for  the  Edinburgh  Encyclo- 
pedia. All  the  while  he  was  fighting  his  doubts,  living,  as  he  says, 
"  in  a  continual,  indefinite,  pining  fear."  After  six  or  seven  years  of 
mental  agony,  which  has  at  times  a  suggestion  of  Bunyan's  spiritual 
struggle,  the  crisis  came  in  1821,  when  Carlyle  suddenly  shook  off  his 
doubts  and  found  himself.  "  All  at  once,"  he  says  in  Sartor,  "  there 
arose  a  thought  in  me,  and  I  asked  myself  :  '  What  Art  thou  afraid  of  ? 
Wherefore  like  a  coward  dost  thou  forever  pip  and  whimper,  and  go 
cowering  and  trembling?  Despicable  biped  !  What  is  the  sum  total 


THOMAS   CARLYLE 
After  the  portrait  by  James  McNeill  Whistler 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  529 

of  the  worst  that  lies  before  thee?  Death?  Well,  Death ;  and  say  the 
pangs  of  Tophet  too,  and  all  that  the  Devil  and  Man  may,  will,  or  can 
do  against  thee  !  Hast  thou  not  a  heart ;  canst  thou  not  suffer  what- 
soever it  be ;  and,  as  a  Child  of  Freedom,  though  outcast,  trample 
Tophet  itself  under  thy  feet,  while  it  consumes  thee?  Let  it  come 
then  ;  I  will  meet  it  and  defy  it ! '  And  as  I  so  thought,  there  rushed 
like  a  stream  of  fire  over  my  whole  soul ;  and  I  shook  base  Fear 
away  from  me  forever."  This  struggle  between  fear  and  faith,  and  the 
triumph  of  the  latter,  is  recorded  in  two  remarkable  chapters,  "  The 
Everlasting  No  "  and  "The  Everlasting  Yea,"  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

Carlyle  now  definitely  resolved  on  a  literary  life,  and  began  with 
any  work  that  offered  a  bare  livelihood.  He  translated  Legendre's 
Geometry  from  the  French,  wrote  numerous  essays  for  the  magazines, 
and  continued  his  study  of  German  while  making  translations  from 
that  language.  His  translation  of  Goethe's  Wilhelm  Meister  ap- 
peared in  1824,  his  Life  of  Schiller  in.  1825,  and  his  Specimens  of 
German  Romance  in  1827.  He  began  at  this  time  a  correspondence 
with  Goethe,  his  literary  hero,  which  lasted  till  the  German  poet's 
death  in  1832.  While  still  busy  with  "hack  work,"  Carlyle,  in  1826, 
married  Jane  Welsh,  a  brilliant  and  beautiful  woman,  whose  literary 
genius  almost  equaled  that  of  her  husband.  Soon  afterwards,  influ- 
enced chiefly  by  poverty,  the  Carlyles  retired  to  a  farm,  at  Craigen- 
puttoch  (Hawks'  Hill),  a  dreary  and  lonely  spot,  far  from  friends 
and  even  neighbors.  They  remained  here  six  years,  during  which 
time  Carlyle  wrote  many  of  his  best  essays,  and  Sartor  Resartus,  his 
most  original  work.  The  latter  went  begging  among  publishers  for 
two  years,  and  was  finally  published  serially  in  Eraser's  Magazine, 
in  1833—1834.  By  this  time  Carlyle  had  begun  to  attract  attention 
as  a  writer,  and,  thinking  that  one  who  made  his  living  by  the  maga- 
zines should  be  in  close  touch  with  the  editors,  took  his  wife's  advice 
and  moved  to  London  "  to  seek  work  and  bread."  He  settled  in 
Cheyne  Row,  Chelsea,  —  a  place  made  famous  by  More,  Erasmus, 
Bolingbroke,  Smollett,  Leigh  Hunt,  and  many  lesser  lights  of  litera- 
ture, —  and  began  to  enjoy  the  first  real  peace  he  had  known  since 
childhood.  In  1837  appeared  The  French  Revolution,  which  first 
made  Carlyle  famous ;  and  in  the  same  year,  led  by  the  necessity  of 
earning  money,  he  began  the  series  of  lectures  —  German  Literature 
(1837),  Periods  of  European  Culture  (1838),  Revolutions  of  Modern 
Europe  (1839),  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship  (1841)  — which  created 
a  sensation  in  London.  "It  was,"  says  Leigh  Hunt,  "as  if  some 


530  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Puritan  had  come  to  life  again,  liberalized  by  German  philosophy 
and  his  own  intense  reflection  and  experience." 

Though  Carlyle  set  himself  against  the  spirit  of  his  age,  calling 
the  famous  Reform  Bill  a  "  progress  into  darkness,"  and  democracy 
"  the  rule  of  the  worst  rather  than  the  best,"  his  rough  sincerity  was 
unquestioned,  and  his  remarks  were  more  quoted  than  those  of  any 
other  living  man.  He  was  supported,  moreover,  by  a  rare  circle  of 
friends,  —  Edward  Irving,  Southey,  Sterling,  Landor,  Leigh  Hunt, 
Dickens,  Mill,  Tennyson,  Browning,  and,  most  helpful  of  all,  Emerson, 
who  had  visited  Carlyle  at  Craigenputtoch  in  1833.  It  was  due  largely 
to  Emerson's  influence  that  Carlyle's  works  were  better  appreciated, 
and  brought  better  financial  rewards,  in  America  than  in  England. 

Carlyle's  fame  reached  its  climax  in  the  monumental  History  of 
Frederick  the  Great  (1858-1865),  published  after  thirteen  years  of 
solitary  toil,  which,  in  his  own  words,  "  made  entire  devastation  of 
home  life  and  happiness."  The  proudest  moment  of  his  life  was 
when  he  was  elected  to  succeed  Gladstone  as  lord  rector  of  Edin- 
burgh University,  in  1865,  the  year  in  which  Frederick  the  Great  was 
finished.  In  the  midst  of  his  triumph,  and  while  he  was  in  Scotland 
to  deliver  his  inaugural  address,  his  happiness  was  suddenly  destroyed 
by  the  death  of  his  wife,  —  a  terrible  blow,  from  which  he  never  re- 
covered. He  lived  on  for  fifteen  years,  shorn  of  his  strength  and  in- 
terest in  life ;  and  his  closing  hours  were  like  the  dull  sunset  of  a 
November  day.  Only  as  we  remember  his  grief  and  remorse  at  the 
death  of  the  companion  who  had  shared  his  toil  but  not  his  triumph, 
can  we  understand  the  sorrow  that  pervades  the  pages  of  his  Remi- 
niscences. He  died  in  1881,  and  at  his  own  wish  was  buried,  not  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  but  among  his  humble  kinsfolk  in  Ecclefechan. 
However  much  we  may  differ  from  his  philosophy  or  regret  the 
harshness  of  his  minor  works,  we  shall  probably  all  agree  in  this  sen- 
timent from  one  of  his  own  letters,  —  that  the  object  of  all  his 
struggle  and  writing  was  "  that  men  should  find  out  and  believe  the 
truth,  and  match  their  lives  to  it." 

Works  of  Carlyle.  There  are  two  widely  different  judg- 
ments of  Carlyle  as  a  man  and  a  writer.  The  first,  which  is 
founded  largely  on  his  minor  writings,  like  Chartism,  Latter- 
Day  Pamphlets,  and  Shooting  Niagara,  declares  that  he  is  a 
misanthrope  and  dyspeptic  with  a  barbarous  style  of  writing ; 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 


531 


that  he  denounces  progress,  democracy,  science,  America, 
Darwin,  —  everybody  and  everything  that  he  does  not  under- 
stand ;  that  his  literary  opinions  are  largely  prejudices ;  that 
he  began  as  a  prophet  and  ended  as  a  scold ;  and  that  in 
denouncing  shams  of  every  sort  he  was  something  of  a  sham 
himself,  since  his  practice  was  not  in  accord  with  his  own 
preaching.  The  second  judgment,  which  is  founded  upon 
Heroes  and  Hero  Worship,  Cromwell,  and  Sartor  Resartus, 
declares  that  these  works  are  the  supreme  manifestation  of 
genius  ;  that  their  rugged,  picturesque  style  makes  others  look 
feeble  or  colorless  by  comparison  ;  and  that  the  author  is  the 
greatest  teacher,  leader,  and  prophet  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Somewhere  between  these  two  extremes  will  be  found  the 
truth  about  Carlyle.  We  only  note  here  that,  while  there  are 
some  grounds  for  the  first  unfavorable  criticism,  we  are  to 
judge  an  author  by  his  best  rather  than  by  his  worst  work ; 
and  that  a  man's  aims  as  well  as  his  accomplishments  must 
be  taken  into  consideration.  As  it  is  written,  "  Whereas  it 
was  in  thine  heart  to  build  an  house  unto  my  name,  thou  didst 
well  that  it  was  in  thine  heart."  Whatever  the  defects  of 
Carlyle  and  his  work,  in  his  heart  he  was  always  planning  a 
house  or  temple  to  the  God  of  truth  and  justice. 

Carlyle's  important  works  may  be  divided  into  three  general 
classes,  —  critical  and  literary  essays,  historical  works,  and 
Sartor  Resartus,  the  last  being  in  a  class  by  itself,  since  there 
is  nothing  like  it  in  literature.  To  these  should  be  added  a 
biography,  the  admirable  Life  of  John  Sterling,  and  Carlyle's 
Letters  and  Reminiscences,  which  are  more  interesting  and 
suggestive  than  some  of  his  better  known  works.  We  omit 
here  all  consideration  of  translations,  and  his  intemperate  de- 
nunciations of  men  and  institutions  in  Chartism,  Latter-Day 
Pamphlets,  and  other  essays,  which  add  nothing  to  the  author's 
fame  or  influence. 

Of  the  essays,  which  are  all  characterized  by  Carlyle's  zeal 
to  get  at  the  heart  of  things,  and  to  reveal  the  soul  rather 


532  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

than  the  works  of  a  writer,  the  best  are  those  on  "  Burns," 
"Scott,"  "  Novalis,"  "  Goethe,"  "  Characteristics,"  "  Signs  ot 
the  Times,"  and  "  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson."  1  In  the  famous 
Essay  on  Essay  on  Burns,  which  is  generally  selected  for 
Burns  special  study,  we  note  four  significant  things : 

(i)  Carlyle  is  peculiarly  well  fitted  for  his  task,  having  many 
points  in  common  with  his  hero.  (2)  In  most  of  his  work 
Carlyle,  by  his  style  and  mannerisms  and  positive  opinions, 
generally  attracts  our  attention  away  from  his  subject ;  but 
in  this  essay  he  shows  himself  capable  of  forgetting  himself 
for  a  moment.  To  an  unusual  extent  he  sticks  to  his  subject, 
and  makes  us  think  of  Burns  rather  than  of  Carlyle.  The 
style,  though  unpolished,  is  fairly  simple  and  readable,  and  is 
free  from  the  breaks,  crudities,  ejaculations,  and  general 
"  nodulosities  "  which  disfigure  much  of  his  work.  (3)  Carlyle 
has  an  original  and  interesting  theory  of  biography  and  criti- 
cism. The  object  of  criticism  is  to  show  the  man  himself,  his 
aims,  ideals,  and  outlook  on  the  universe ;  the  object  of  biog- 
raphy is  "to  show  what  and  how  produced  was  the  effect  of 
society  upon  him ;  what  and  how  produced  was  his  effect  on 
society."  (4)  Carlyle  is  often  severe,  even  harsh,  in  his  esti- 
mates of  other  men,  but  in  this  case  the  tragedy  of  Burns's 
"  life  of  fragments "  attracts  and  softens  him.  He  grows 
enthusiastic  and  —  a  rare  thing  for  Carlyle  —  apologizes  for 
his  enthusiasm  in  the  striking  sentence,  "We  love  Burns, 
and  we  pity  him ;  and  love  and  pity  are  prone  to  magnify." 
So  he  gives  us  the  most  tender  and  appreciative  of  his  essays, 
and  one  of  the  most  illuminating  criticisms  of  Burns  that  has 
appeared  in  our  language. 

The  central  idea  of  Carlyle's  historical  works  is  found  in  his 
Heroes  and  Hero  Worship  (1841),  his  most  widely  read  book. 
"Universal  history,"  he  says,  "is  at  bottom  the  history  of 

1  The  student  should  remember  that  Carlyle's  literary  opinions,  though  very  positive, 
are  to  be  received  with  caution.  Sometimes,  indeed,  they  are  so  one-sided  and  preju- 
diced that  they  are  more  valuable  as  a  revelation  of  Carlyle  himself  than  as  a  study  of 
the  author  he  is  considering. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 


533 


the  great  men  who  have  worked  here."  To  get  at  the  truth  of 
history  we  must  study  not  movements  but  men,  and  read  not 
Heroes  and  state  papers  but  the  biographies  of  heroes.  His 
Hero  Worship  summary  of  history  as  presented  in  this  work  has 
six  divisions  :  (i)  The  Hero  as  Divinity,  having  for  its  general 
subject  Odin,  the  "  type  Norseman,"  who,  Carlyle  thinks,  was 
some  old  heroic  chief,  afterwards  deified  by  his  countrymen ; 
(2)  The  Hero  as  Prophet,  treating  of  Mahomet  and  the  rise  of 
Islam  ;  (3)  The  Hero  as  Poet,  in  which  Dante  and  Shakespeare 
are  taken  as  types  ;  (4)  The  Hero  as  Priest,  or  religious  leader, 
in  which  Luther  appears  as  the  hero  of  the  Reformation,  and 
Knox  as  the  hero  of  Puritanism ;  (5)  The  Hero  as  Man  of 
Letters,  in  which  we  have  the  curious  choice  of  Johnson,  Rous- 
seau, and  Burns ;  (6)  The  Hero  as  King,  in  which  Cromwell 
and  Napoleon  appear  as  the  heroes  of  reform  by  revolution. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  Heroes  is  not  a  book  of  history ; 
neither  is  it  scientifically  written  in  the  manner  of  Gibbon. 
With  science  in  any  form  Carlyle  had  no  patience ;  and  he 
miscalculated  the  value  of  that  patient  search  for  facts  and 
evidence  which  science  undertakes  before  building  any  theo- 
ries, either  of  kings  or  cabbages.  The  book,  therefore,  abounds 
in  errors  ;  but  they  are  the  errors  of  carelessness  and  are 
perhaps  of  small  consequence.  His  misconception  of  history, 
however,  is  more  serious.  With  the  modern  idea  of  history,  as 
the  growth  of  freedom  among  all  classes,  he  has  no  sympathy. 
The  progress  of  democracy  was  to  him  an  evil  thing,  a  "  turn- 
ing of  the  face  towards  darkness  and  anarchy."  At  certain 
periods,  according  to  Carlyle,  God  sends  us  geniuses,  some- 
times as  priests  or  poets,  sometimes  as  soldiers  or  statesmen ; 
but  in  whatever  guise  they  appear,  these  are  our  real  rulers. 
He  shows,  moreover,  that  whenever  such  men  appear,  multi- 
tudes follow  them,  and  that  a  man's  following  is  a  sure  index 
of  his  heroism  and  kingship. 

Whether  we  agree  with  Carlyle  or  not,  we  must  accept  for 
the  moment  his  peculiar  view  of  history,  else  Heroes  can  never 


534  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

open  its  treasures  to  us.  The  book  abounds  in  startling  ideas, 
expressed  with  originality  and  power,  and  is  pervaded  through, 
out  by  an  atmosphere  of  intense  moral  earnestness.  The 
more  we  read  it,  the  more  we  find  to  admire  and  to  remember. 

Carlyle's  French  Revolution  (1837)  *s  to  be  taken  more 
seriously  as  a  historical  work  ;  but  here  again  his  hero  wor> 
French  snip  comes  to  the  front,  and  his  book  is  a  series  of 
Revolution  flashlights  thrown  upon  men  in  dramatic  situations, 
rather  than  a  tracing  of  causes  to  their  consequences.  The 
very  titles  of  his  chapters  —  "  Astraea  Redux,"  "Windbags," 
"  Broglie  the  War  God" — do  violence  to  our  conception  of 
history,  and  are  more  suggestive  of  Carlyle's  individualism 
than  of  French  history.  He  is  here  the  preacher  rather  than 
the  historian  ;  his  text  is  the  eternal  justice  ;  and  his  message 
is  that  all  wrongdoing  is  inevitably  followed  by  vengeance. 
His  method  is  intensely  dramatic.  From  a  mass  of  historical 
details  he  selects  a  few  picturesque  incidents  and  striking  fig- 
ures, and  his  vivid  pictures  of  the  storming  of  the  Bastille, 
the  rush  of  the  mob  to  Versailles,  the  death  of  Louis  XVI, 
and  the  Reign  of  Terror,  seem  like  the  work  of  an  eyewitness 
describing  some  terrible  catastrophe.  At  times,  as  it  portrays 
Danton,  Robespierre,  and  the  great  characters  of  the  tragedy, 
Carlyle's  work  is  suggestive  of  an  historical  play  of  Shake- 
speare ;  and  again,  as  it  describes  the  rush  and  riot  of  men 
led  by  elemental  passion,  it  is  more  like  a  great  prose  epic. 
Though  not  a  reliable  history  in  any  sense,  it  is  one  of  the 
most  dramatic  and  stirring  narratives  in  our  language. 

Two  other  historical  works  deserve  at  least  a  passing  notice. 
The  History  of  Frederick  the  Great  (1858-1865),  in  six  vol- 
oiiver  umes,  is  a  colossal  picture  of  the  life  and  times  of 

Cromwell  the  hero  of  the  Prussian  Empire.  Oliver  Crom- 
well's Letters  and  Speeches  is,  in  our  personal  judgment, 
Carlyle's  best  historical  work.  His  idea  is  to  present  the  very 
soul  of  the  great  Puritan  leader.  He  gives  us,  as  of  first  im- 
portance, Cromwell's  own  words,  and  connects  them  by  a 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  535 

commentary  in  which  other  men  and  events  are  described 
with  vigor  and  vividness.  Cromwell  was  one  of  Carlyle's 
greatest  heroes,  and  in  this  case  he  is  most  careful  to  present 
the  facts  which  occasion  his  own  enthusiasm.  The  result 
is,  on  the  whole,  the  most  lifelike  picture  of  a  great  histori- 
cal character  that  we  possess.  Other  historians  had  heaped 
calumny  upon  Cromwell  till  the  English  public  regarded  him 
with  prejudice  and  horror  ;  and  it  is  an  indication  of  Carlyle's 
power  that  by  a  single  book  he  revolutionized  England's 
opinion  of  one  of  her  greatest  men. 

Carlyle's  Sartor  Resartus  (1834),  his  only  creative  work,  is 
a  mixture  of  philosophy  and  romance,  of  wisdom  and  nonsense, 
Sartor  — a  chaotic  jumble  of  the  author's  thoughts,  feel- 

Resartus  ings,  and  experiences  during  the  first  thirty-five 
years  of  his  life.  The  title,  which  means  "  The  Tailor  Patched- 
up,"  is  taken  from  an  old  Scotch  song.  The  hero  is  Diogenes 
Teufelsdroeckh,  a  German  professor  at  the  University  of 
Weissnichtwo  (don't  know  where) ;  the  narrative  concerns 
this  queer  professor's  life  and  opinions ;  and  the  central 
thought  of  the  book  is  the  philosophy  of  clothes,  which  are 
considered  symbolically  as  the  outward  expression  of  spirit. 
Thus,  man's  body  is  the  outward  garment  of  his  soul,  and  the 
universe  is  the  visible  garment  of  the  invisible  God.  The 
arrangement  of  Sartor  is  clumsy  and  hard  to  follow.  In  order 
to  leave  himself  free  to  bring  in  everything  he  thought  about, 
Carlyle  assumed  the  position  of  one  who  was  translating  and 
editing  the  old  professor's  manuscripts,  which  are  supposed 
to  consist  of  numerous  sheets  stuffed  into  twelve  paper  bags, 
each  labeled  with  a  sign  of  the  zodiac.  The  editor  pretends 
to  make  order  out  of  this  chaos ;  but  he  is  free  to  jump  from 
one  subject  to  another  and  to  state  the  most  startling  opinion 
by  simply  using  quotation  marks  and  adding  a  note  that  he  is 
not  responsible  for  Teufelsdroeckh's  crazy  notions,  —  which 
are  in  reality  Carlyle's  own  dreams  and  ideals.  Partly  because 
of  the  matter,  which  is  sometimes  incoherent,  partly  because 


536  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  the  style,  which,  though  picturesque,  is  sometimes  confused 
and  ungrammatical,  Sartor  is  not  easy  reading ;  but  it  amply 
repays  whatever  time  and  study  we  give  to  it.  Many  of  its 
passages  are  more  like  poetry  than  prose ;  and  one  cannot 
read  such  chapters  as  "  The  Everlasting  No,"  "  The  Ever- 
lasting Yea,"  "  Reminiscences,"  and  "  Natural  Supernatural- 
ism,"  and  be  quite  the  same  man  afterwards ;  for  Carlyle's 
thought  has  entered  into  him,  and  he  walks  henceforth  more 
gently,  more  reverently  through  the  world,  as  in  the  presence 
of  the  Eternal. 

General  Characteristics.  Concerning  Carlyle's  style  there 
are  almost  as  many  opinions  as  there  are  readers.  This  is 
Carlyle's  partly  because  he  impresses  different  people  in 
Style  widely  different  ways,  and  partly  because  his  ex- 

pression varies  greatly.  At  times  he  is  calm,  persuasive, 
grimly  humorous,  as  if  conversing;  at  other  times,  wildly 
exclamatory,  as  if  he  were  shouting  and  waving  his  arms  at 
the  reader.  We  have  spoken  of  Macaulay's  style  as  that  of  the 
finished  orator,  and  we  might  reasonably  speak  of  Carlyle's  as 
that  of  the  exhorter,  who  cares  little  for  methods  so  long  as  he 
makes  a  strong  impression  on  his  hearers.  "  Every  sentence 
is  alive  to  its  finger  tips,"  writes  a  modern  critic ;  and  though 
Carlyle  often  violates  the  rules  of  grammar  and  rhetoric,  we 
can  well  afford  to  let  an  original  genius  express  his  own  in- 
tense conviction  in  his  own  vivid  and  picturesque  way. 

Carlyle's  message  may  be  summed  up  in  two  imperatives,  — 

labor,  and  be  sincere.    He  lectured  and  wrote  chiefly  for  the 

upper  classes  who  had  begun  to  think,  somewhat 

sentimentally,  of  the  conditions  of  the  laboring  men 

of  the  world ;  and  he  demanded  for  the  latter,  not  charity  or 

pity,  but  justice  and  honor.     All  labor,  whether  of  head  or 

hand,  is  divine  ;  and  labor  alone  justifies  a  man  as  a  son  of 

earth  and  heaven.    To  society,  which  Carlyle  thought  to  be 

occupied  wholly  with  conventional  affairs,  he  came  with  the 

stamp  of  sincerity,  calling  upon  men  to  lay  aside  hypocrisy 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  537 

and  to  think  and  speak  and  live  the  truth.  He  had  none  of 
Addison's  delicate  satire  and  humor,  and  in  his  fury  at  what 
he  thought  was  false  he  was  generally  unsympathetic  and 
often  harsh  ;  but  we  must  not  forget  that  Thackeray  —  who 
knew  society  much  better  than  did  Carlyle  —  gave  a  very 
unflattering  picture  of  it  in  Vanity  Fair  and  The  Book  of 
Snobs.  Apparently  the  age  needed  plain  speaking,  and  Car- 
lyle furnished  it  in  scripture  measure.  Harriet  Martineau, 
who  knew  the  world  for  which  Carlyle  wrote,  summed  up  his 
influence  when  she  said  that  he  had  "  infused  into  the  mind 
of  the  English  nation  .  .  .  sincerity,  earnestness,  healthfulness, 
and  courage."  If  we  add  to  the  above  message  Carlyle's  con- 
ceptions of  the  world  as  governed  by  a  God  of  justice  who 
never  forgets,  and  of  human  history  as  "  an  inarticulate  Bible," 
slowly  revealing  the  divine  purpose,  we  shall  understand  better 
the  force  of  his  ethical  appeal  and  the  profound  influence  he 
exercised  on  the  moral  and  intellectual  life  of  the  past  century. 

JOHN  RUSKIN  (1819-1900) 

In  approaching  the  study  of  Ruskin  we  are  to  remember, 
first  of  all,  that  we  are  dealing  with  a  great  and  good  man, 
who  is  himself  more  inspiring  than  any  of  his  books.  In  some 
respects  he  is  like  his  friend  Carlyle,  whose  disciple  he  ac- 
knowledged himself  to  be ;  but  he  is  broader  in  his  sympa- 
thies, and  in  every  way  more  hopeful,  helpful,  and  humane. 
Thus,  in  the  face  of  the  drudgery  and  poverty  of  the  competi- 
tive system,  Carlyle  proposed,  with  the  grim  satire  of  Swift's 
"  Modest  Proposal,"  to  organize  an  annual  hunt  in  which  suc- 
cessful people  should  shoot  the  unfortunate,  and  to  use  the 
game  for  the  support  of  the  army  and  navy.  Ruskin,  facing 
the  same  problem,  wrote  :  "  I  will  endure  it  no  longer  quietly  ; 
but  henceforward,  with  any  few  or  many  who  will  help,  do  my 
best  to  abate  this  misery."  Then,  leaving  the  field  of  art 
criticism,  where  he  was  the  acknowledged  leader,  he  begins 
to  write  of  labor  and  justice ;  gives  his  fortune  in  charity,  in 


538  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

establishing  schools  and  libraries  ;  and  founds  his  St.  George's 
Guild  of  workingmen,  to  put  in  practice  the  principles  of 
brotherhood  and  cooperation  for  which  he  and  Carlyle  con- 
tended. Though  his  style  marks  him  as  one  of  the  masters 
of  English  prose,  he  is  generally  studied  not  as  a  literary  man 
but  as  an  ethical  teacher,  and  we  shall  hardly  appreciate  his 
works  unless  we  see  behind  every  book  the  figure  of  the 
heroically  sincere  man  who  wrote  it. 

Life.  Ruskin  was  born  in  London,  in  1819.  His  father  was  a 
prosperous  wine  merchant  who  gained  a  fortune  in  trade,  and  who 
spent  his  leisure  hours  in  the  company  of  good  books  and  pictures. 
On  his  tombstone  one  may  still  read  this  inscription  written  by  Rus- 
kin :  "  He  was  an  entirely  honest  merchant  and  his  memory  is  to 
all  who  keep  it  dear  and  helpful.  His  son,  whom  he  loved  to  the 
uttermost  and  taught  to  speak  truth,  says  this  of  him."  Ruskin's 
mother,  a  devout  and  somewhat  austere  woman,  brought  her  son  up 
with  Puritanical  strictness,  not  forgetting  Solomon's  injunction  that 
**  the  rod  and  reproof  give  wisdom." 

Of  Ruskin's  early  years  at  Herne  Hill,  on  the  outskirts  of  London, 
it  is  better  to  read  his  own  interesting  record  in  Praterita.  It  was 
in  some  respects  a  cramped  and  lonely  childhood,  but  certain  things 
which  strongly  molded  his  character  are  worthy  of  mention.  First, 
he  was  taught  by  word  and  example  in  all  things  to  speak  the  truth, 
and  he  never  forgot  the  lesson.  Second,  he  had  few  toys,  and  spent 
much  time  in  studying  the  leaves,  the  flowers,  the  grass,  the  clouds, 
even  the  figures  and  colors  of  the  carpet,  and  so  laid  the  foundation 
for  that  minute  and  accurate  observation  which  is  manifest  in  all  his 
writings.  Third,  he  was  educated  first  by  his  mother,  then  by  private 
tutors,  and  so  missed  the  discipline  of  the  public  schools.  The  influ- 
ence of  this  lonely  training  is  evident  in  all  his  work.  Like  Carlyle, 
he  is  often  too  positive  and  dogmatic,  —  the  result  of  failing  to  test 
his  work  by  the  standards  of  other  men  of  his  age.  Fourth,  he  was 
obliged  to  read  the  Bible  every  day  and  to  learn  long  passages  ver- 
batim. The  result  of  this  training  was,  he  says,  "to  make  every 
word  of  the  Scriptures  familiar  to  my  ear  in  habitual  music."  We 
can  hardly  read  a  page  of  his  later  work  without  finding  some  reflec- 
tion of  the  noble  simplicity  or  vivid  imagery  of  the  sacred  records. 
Fifth,  he  traveled  much  with  his  father  and  mother,  and  his  innate 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 


539 


love  of  nature  was  intensified  by  what  he  saw  on  his  leisurely  jour- 
neys through  the  most  beautiful  parts  of  England  and  the  Continent. 

Ruskin  entered  Christ  Church  College,  Oxford,  in  1836,  when 
only  seventeen  years  old.  He  was  at  this  time  a  shy,  sensitive  boy, 
a  lover  of  nature  and  of  every  art  which  reflects  nature,  but  almost 
entirely  ignorant  of  the  ways  of  boys  and  men.  An  attack  of  con- 
sumption, with  which  he  had  long  been  threatened,  caused  him  to 
leave  Oxford  in  1840,  and  for  nearly  two  years  he  wandered  over  Italy 
searching  for  health  and  cheerfulness,  and  gathering  materials  for  the 
first  volume  of  Modern  Painters,  the  book  that  made  him  famous. 

Ruskin's  literary  work  began  in  childhood,  when  he  was  encouraged 
to  write  freely  in  prose  and  poetry.  A  volume  of  poems  illustrated 
by  his  own  drawings  was  published 
in  1859,  after  he  had  won  fame 
as  a  prose  writer,  but,  save  for  the 
drawings,  it  is  of  small  importance. 
The  first  volume  of  Modern  Painters 
(1843)  was  begun  as  a  heated  de- 
fense of  the  artist  Turner,  but  it  de- 
veloped into  an  essay  on  art  as  a  true 
picture  of  nature,  "  not  only  in  her 
outward  aspect  but  in  her  inward 
spirit."  The  work,  which  was  signed 
simply  "Oxford  Graduate,"  aroused 
a  storm  of  mingled  approval  and 
protest ;  but  however  much  critics 
warred  over  its  theories  of  art,  all 
were  agreed  that  the  unknown  author  was  a  master  of  descriptive 
prose.  Ruskin  now  made  frequent  trips  to  the  art  galleries  of  the 
Continent,  and  produced  four  more  volumes  of  Modern  Painters 
during  the  next  seventeen  years.  Meanwhile  he  wrote  other  books,  — 
Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture  (1849),  Stones  of  Venice  (1851-1853), 
Pre-Raphaelitism,  and  numerous  lectures  and  essays,  which  gave 
him  a  place  in  the  world  of  art  similar  to  that  held  by  Matthew 
Arnold  in  the  world  of  letters.  In  1869  he  was  appointed  professor 
of  art  at  Oxford,  a  position  which  greatly  increased  his  prestige  and 
influence,  not  only  among  students  but  among  a  great  variety  of  peo- 
ple who  heard  his  lectures  and  read  his  published  works.  Lectures 
on  Art,  Aratra  Pentelici  (lectures  on  sculpture),  Ariadne  Florentina 
(lectures  on  engraving),  Michael  Angela  and  Tintoret,  The  Art  of 


JOHN  RUSKIN 


540  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

England,  Val  d' Arno  (lectures  on  Tuscan  art),  St.  Mark's  Rest  (a 
history  of  Venice),  Mornings  in  Florence  (studies  in  Christian  art, 
now  much  used  as  a  guidebook  to  the  picture  galleries  of  Florence), 
The  Laws  of  Fiesole  (a  treatise  on  drawing  and  painting  for  schools), 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts  in  Venice,  Pleasures  of  England,  —  all  these 
works  on  art  show  Ruskin's  literary  industry.  And  we  must  also  re- 
cord Love's  Meinie  (a  study  of  birds),  Proserpina  (a  study  of  flowers), 
Deucalion  (a  study  of  waves  and  stones),  besides  various  essays  on 
political  economy  which  indicate  that  Ruskin,  like  Arnold,  had  begun 
to  consider  the  practical  problems  of  his  age. 

At  the  height  of  his  fame,  in  1860,  Ruskin  turned  for  a  time  from 
art,  to  consider  questions  of  wealth  and  labor,  —  terms  which  were 
used  glibly  by  the  economists  of  the  age  without  much  thought  for 
their  fundamental  meaning.  "There  is  no  wealth  but  life,"  an- 
nounced Ruskin,  —  "  life,  including  all  its  powers  of  love,  of  joy,  and 
of  admiration.  That  country  is  the  richest  which  nourishes  the  great- 
est number  of  noble  and  happy  human  beings."  Such  a  doctrine, 
proclaimed  by  Goldsmith  in  his  Deserted  Village,  was  regarded  as  a 
pretty  sentiment,  but  coming  from  one  of  the  greatest  leaders  and 
teachers  of  England  it  was  like  a  bombshell.  Ruskin  wrote  four 
essays  establishing  this  doctrine  and  pleading  for  a  more  socialistic 
form  of  government  in  which  reform  might  be  possible.  The  essays 
were  published  in  the  Cornhill  Magazine,  of  which  Thackeray  was 
editor,  and  they  aroused  such  a  storm  that  the  publication  was  dis- 
continued. Ruskin  then  published  the  essays  in  book  form,  with  the 
title  Unto  This  Last,  in  1862.  Munera  Pulveris  (\%£>2)  was  another 
work  in  which  the  principles  of  capital  and  labor  and  the  evils  of 
the  competitive  system  were  discussed  in  such  a  way  that  the  author 
was  denounced  as  a  visionary  or  a  madman.  Other  works  of  this 
practical  period  are  Time  and  Tide,  Fors  Clavigera,  Sesame  and  Lilies, 
and  the  Crown  of  Wild  Olive. 

The  latter  part  of  Ruskin's  life  was  a  time  of  increasing  sadness, 
due  partly  to  the  failure  of  his  plans,  and  partly  to  public  attacks 
upon  his  motives  or  upon  his  sanity.  He  grew  bitter  at  first,  as  his 
critics  ridiculed  or  denounced  his  principles,  and  at  times  his  voice 
is  as  querulous  as  that  of  Carlyle.  We  are  to  remember,  however, 
the  conditions  under  which  he  struggled.  His  health  had  been  shat- 
tered by  successive  attacks  of  disease ;  he  had  been  disappointed  in 
love ;  his  marriage  was  unhappy ;  and  his  work  seemed  a  failure. 
He  had  given  nearly  all  his  fortune  in  charity,  and  the  poor  were 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  541 

more  numerous  than  ever  before.  His  famous  St.  George's  Guild  was 
not  successful,  and  the  tyranny  of  the  competitive  system  seemed 
too  deeply  rooted  to  be  overthrown.  On  the  death  of  his  mother  he 
left  London  and,  in  1879,  retired  to  Brantwood,  on  Coniston  Lake, 
in  the  beautiful  region  beloved  of  Wordsworth.  Here  he  passed  the 
last  quiet  years  of  his  life  under  the  care  of  his  cousin,  Mrs.  Severn, 
the  "  angel  of  the  house,"  and  wrote,  at  Professor  Norton's  sugges- 
tion, Prceterita,  one  of  his  most  interesting  books,  in  which  he  de- 
scribes the  events  of  his  youth  from  his  own  view  point.  He  died 
quietly  in  1900,  and  was  buried,  as  he  wished,  without  funeral  pomp 
or  public  ceremony,  in  the  little  churchyard  at  Coniston. 

Works  of  Ruskin.  There  are  three  little  books  which,  in 
popular  favor,  stand  first  on  the  list  of  Ruskin' s  numerous 
works,  —  Ethics  of  the  Dust,  a  series  of  Lectures  to  Little 
Housewives,  which  appeals  most  to  women ;  Crown  of  Wild 
Olive,  three  lectures  on  Work,  Traffic,  and  War,  which  appeals 
to  thoughtful  men  facing  the  problems  of  work  and  duty ; 
and  Sesame  and  Lilies,  which  appeals  to  men  and  women 
alike.  The  last  is  the  most  widely  known  of  Ruskin's  works 
and  the  best  with  which  to  begin  our  reading. 

The  first  thing  we  notice  in  Sesame  and  Lilies  is  the  sym- 
bolical title.  "  Sesame,"  taken  from  the  story  of  the  robbers' 
Sesame  and  cave  *n  tne  Arabian  Nights,  means  a  secret  word 
Lilies  or  talisman  which  unlocks  a  treasure  house.  It  was 

intended,  no  doubt,  to  introduce  the  first  part  of  the  work, 
called  "  Of  Kings'  Treasuries,"  which  treats  of  books  and 
reading.  "  Lilies,"  taken  from  Isaiah  as  a  symbol  of  beauty, 
purity,  and  peace,  introduces  the  second  lecture,  "  Of  Queens' 
Gardens,"  which  is  an  exquisite  study  of  woman's  life  and 
education.  These  two  lectures  properly  constitute  the  book, 
but  a  third  is  added,  on  "  The  Mystery  of  Life."  The  last 
begins  in  a  monologue  upon  his  own  failures  in  life,  and  is 
pervaded  by  an  atmosphere  of  sadness,  sometimes  of  pessimism, 
quite  different  from  the  spirit  of  the  other  two  lectures. 

Though  the  theme  of  the  first  lecture  is  books,  Ruskin 
manages  to  present  to  his  audience  his  whole  philosophy  of 


542  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

life.  He  gives  us,  with  a  wealth  of  detail,  a  description  of  what 
constitutes  a  real  book ;  he  looks  into  the  meaning  of  words, 
Kings'  Treas-  an^  teaches  us  how  to  read,  using  a  selection  from 
uries  Milton's  Lycidas  as  an  illustration.  This  study  of 

words  gives  us  the  key  with  which  we  are  to  unlock  "  Kings' 
Treasuries,"  that  is,  the  books  which  contain  the  precious 
thoughts  of  the  kingly  minds  of  all  ages.  He  shows  the  real 
meaning  and  end  of  education,  the  value  of  labor  and  of  a 
purpose  in  life ;  he  treats  of  nature,  science,  art,  literature, 
religion  ;  he  defines  the  purpose  of  government,  showing  that 
soul-life,  not  money  or  trade,  is  the  measure  of  national  great- 
ness ;  and  he  criticises  the  general  injustice  of  his  age,  quoting 
a  heartrending  story  of  toil  and  suffering  from  the  newspapers 
to  show  how  close  his  theory  is  to  daily  needs.  Here  is  an 
astonishing  variety  in  a  small  compass  ;  but  there  is  no  con- 
fusion. Ruskin's  mind  was  wonderfully  analytical,  and  one 
subject  develops  naturally  from  the  other. 

In  the  second  lecture,  "Of  Queens'  Gardens,"  he  considers 
the  question  of  woman's  place  and  education,  which  Tennyson 
Of  Queens'  nad  attempted  to  answer  in  The  Princess.  Ruskin's 
Gardens  theory  is  that  the  purpose  of  all  education  is  to  ac- 
quire power  to  bless  and  to  redeem  human  society  ;  and  that 
in  this  noble  work  woman  must  always  play  the  leading  part. 
He  searches  all  literature  for  illustrations,  and  his  description 
of  literary  heroines,  especially  of  Shakespeare's  perfect  women, 
is  unrivaled.  Ruskin  is  always  at  his  best  in  writing  of  women 
or  for  women,  and  the  lofty  idealism  of  this  essay,  together 
with  its  rare  beauty  of  expression,  makes  it,  on  the  whole, 
the  most  delightful  and  inspiring  of  his  works. 

Among  Ruskin's  practical  works  the  reader  will  find  in 
Fors  Clavigera,  a  series  of  letters  to  workingmen,  and  Unto 
Unto  This  This  Last,  four  essays  on  the  principles  of  political 
Last  economy,  the  substance  of  his  economic  teachings. 

In  the  latter  work,  starting  with  the  proposition  that  our 
present  competitive  system  centers  about  the  idea  of  wealth, 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  543 

Ruskin  tries  to  find  out  what  wealth  is  ;  and  the  pith  of  his 
teaching  is  this,  —  that  men  are  of  more  account  than  money  ; 
that  a  man's  real  wealth  is  found  in  his  soul,  not  in  his  pocket ; 
and  that  the  prime  object  of  life  and  labor  is  "  the  producing 
of  as  many  as  possible  full-breathed,  bright-eyed,  and  happy- 
hearted  human  creatures."  To  make  this  ideal  practical,  Ruskin 
makes  four  suggestions  :  (i)  that  training  schools  be  estab- 
lished to  teach  young  men  and  women  three  things,  —  the 
laws  and  practice  of  health,  habits  of  gentleness  and  justice, 
and  the  trade  or  calling  by  which  they  are  to  live ;  (2)  that 
the  government  establish  farms  and  workshops  for  the  pro- 
duction of  all  the  necessaries  of  life,  where  only  good  and 
honest  work  shall  be  tolerated  and  where  a  standard  of  work 
and  wages  shall  be  maintained ;  (3)  that  any  person  out  of 
employment  shall  be  received  at  the  nearest  government 
school :  if  ignorant  he  shall  be  educated,  and  if  competent 
to  do  any  work  he  shall  have  the  opportunity  to  do  it ; 
(4)  that  comfortable  homes  be  provided  for  the  sick  and  for 
the  aged,  and  that  this  be  done  in  justice,  not  in  charity. 
A  laborer  serves  his  country  as  truly  as  does  a  soldier  or  a 
statesman,  and  a  pension  should  be  no  more  disgraceful  in 
one  case  than  in  the  other. 

Among  Ruskin' s  numerous  books  treating  of  art,  we  recom- 
mend the  Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture  (1849),  Stones  of 
Workson  Venice  (1851-1853),  and  the  first  two  volumes  of 
Art  Modern  Painters  (1843-1846).  With  Ruskin's  art 

theories,  which,  as  Sydney  Smith  prophesied,  "  worked  a  com- 
plete revolution  in  the  world  of  taste,"  we  need  not  concern 
ourselves  here.  We  simply  point  out  four  principles  that  are 
manifest  in  all  his  work  :  (i)  that  the  object  of  art,  as  of  every 
other  human  endeavor,  is  to  find  and  to  express  the  truth  ; 
(2)  that  art,  in  order  to  be  true,  must  break  away  from  con- 
ventionalities and  copy  nature ;  (3)  that  morality  is  closely 
allied  with  art,  and  that  a  careful  study  of  any  art  reveals  the 
moral  strength  or  weakness  of  the  people  that  produced  it ; 


544  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

(4)  that  the  main  purpose  of  art  is  not  to  delight  a  few  cul- 
tured people  but  to  serve  the  daily  uses  of  common  life.  "The 
giving  brightness  to  pictures  is  much,"  he  says,  "but  the  giv- 
ing brightness  to  life  is  more."  In  this  attempt  to  make  art 
serve  the  practical  ends  of  life,  Ruskin  is  allied  with  all  the 
great  writers  of  the  period,  who  use  literature  as  the  instru- 
ment of  human  progress. 

General  Characteristics.  One  who  reads  Ruskin  is  in  a  state 
of  mind  analogous  to  that  of  a  man  who  goes  through  a  picture 
gallery,  pausing  now  to  admire  a  face  or  a  landscape  for  its 
own  sake,  and  again  to  marvel  at  the  technical  skill  of  the 
artist,  without  regard  to  his  subject.  For  Ruskin  is  a  great 
literary  artist  and  a  great  ethical  teacher,  and  we  admire  one 
page  for  its  style,  and  the  next  for  its  message  to  humanity. 
The  best  of  his  prose,  which  one  may  find  in  the  descriptive 
passages  of  Prceterita  and  Modern  Painters,  is  written  in  a 
richly  ornate  style,  with  a  wealth  of  figures  and  allusions,  and 
at  times  a  rhythmic,  melodious  quality  which  makes  it  almost 
equal  to  poetry.  Ruskin  had  a  rare  sensitiveness  to  beauty  in 
every  form,  and  more,  perhaps,  than  any  other  writer  in  our 
language,  he  has  helped  us  to  see  and  appreciate  the  beauty 
of  the  world  around  us. 

As  for  Ruskin' s  ethical  teaching,  it  appears  in  so  many 
forms  and  in  so  many  different  works  that  any  summary 
Ethical  must  appear  inadequate.  For  a  full  half  century 
Teaching  ne  was  "  the  apostle  of  beauty  "  in  England,  and 
the  beauty  for  which  he  pleaded  was  never  sensuous  or  pagan, 
as  in  the  Renaissance,  but  always  spiritual,  appealing  to  the 
soul  of  man  rather  than  to  his  eyes,  leading  to  better  work 
and  better  living.  In  his  economic  essays  Ruskin  is  even  more 
directly  and  positively  ethical.  To  mitigate  the  evils  of  the 
unreasonable  competitive  system  under  which  we  labor  and 
sorrow ;  to  bring  master  and  man  together  in  mutual  trust 
and  helpfulness  ;  to  seek  beauty,  truth,  goodness  as  the  chief 
ends  of  life,  and,  having  found  them,  to  make  our  characters 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  545 

correspond ;  to  share  the  best  treasures  of  art  and  literature 
with  rich  and  poor  alike ;  to  labor  always,  and,  whether  we 
work  with  hand  orhead,  to  do  our  work  in  praise  of  something 
that  we  love,  — this  sums  up  Ruskin's  purpose  and  message. 
And  the  best  of  it  is  that,  like  Chaucer's  country  parson,  he 
practiced  his  doctrine  before  he  preached  it. 

MATTHEW  ARNOLD  (1822-1888) 


In  the  world  of  literature  Arnold  has  occupied  for  many 
years  an  authoritative  position  as  critic  and  teacher,  similar 
to  that  held  by  Ruskin  in  the  world  of  art.  In  his  literary 
work  two  very  different  moods  are  manifest.  In  his  poetry 
he  reflects  the  doubt  of  an  age  which  witnessed  the  conflict 
between  science  and  revealed  religion.  Apparently  he  never 
passed  through  any  such  decisive  personal  struggle  as  is  re- 
corded in  Sartor  Resartus,  and  he  has  no  positive  conviction 
such  as  is  voiced  in  "  The  Everlasting  Yea."  He  is  beset  by 
doubts  which  he  never  settles,  and  his  poems  generally  ex- 
press sorrow  or  regret  or  resignation.  In  his  prose  he  shows 
the  cavalier  spirit, — aggressive,  light-hearted,  self-confident. 
Like  Carlyle,  he  dislikes  shams,  and  protests  against  what  he 
calls  the  barbarisms  of  society ;  but  he  writes  with  a  light 
touch,  using  satire  and  banter  as  the  better  part  of  his  argu- 
ment. Carlyle  denounces  with  the  zeal  of  a  Hebrew  prophet, 
and  lets  you  know  that  you  are  hopelessly  lost  if  you  reject 
his  message.  Arnold  is  more  like  the  cultivated  Greek ;  his 
voice  is  soft,  his  speech  suave,  but  he  leaves  the  impression, 
if  you  happen  to  differ  with  him,  that  you  must  be  deficient 
in  culture.  Both  these  men,  so  different  in  spirit  and  methods, 
confronted  the  same  problems,  sought  the  same  ends,  and 
were  dominated  by  the  same  moral  sincerity. 

Life.  Arnold  was  born  in  Laleham,  in  the  valley  of  the  Thames, 
in  1822.  His  father  was  Dr.  Thomas  Arnold,  head  master  of  Rugby, 
with  whom  many  of  us  have  grown  familiar  by  reading  Tom  Brown's 


546  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

School  Days.  After  fitting  for  the  university  at  Winchester  and  at 
Rugby,  Arnold  entered  Balliol  College,  Oxford,  where  he  was  dis- 
tinguished by  winning  prizes  in  poetry  and  by  general  excellence  in 
the  classics.  More  than  any  other  poet  Arnold  reflects  the  spirit  of 
his  university.  "The  Scholar-Gipsy"  and  "Thyrsis"  contain  many 
references  to  Oxford  and  the  surrounding  country,  but  they  are  more 
noticeable  for  their  spirit  of  aloofness,  —  as  if  Oxford  men  were  too 
much  occupied  with  classic  dreams  and  ideals  to  concern  themselves 
with  the  practical  affairs  of  life. 

After  leaving  the  university  Arnold  first  taught  the  classics  at 
Rugby;  then,  in  1847,  he  became  private  secretary  to  Lord  Lans- 
downe,  who  appointed  the  young  poet  to  the  position  of  inspector 
of  schools  under  the  government.  In  this  position  Arnold  worked 
patiently  for  the  next  thirty-five  years,  traveling  about  the  country, 
examining  teachers,  and  correcting  endless  examination  papers.  For 
ten  years  (1857-1867)  he  was  professor  of  poetry  at  Oxford,  where 
his  famous  lectures  On  Translating  Homer  were  given.  He  made 
numerous  reports  on  English  and  foreign  schools,  and  was  three  times 
sent  abroad  to  study  educational  methods  on  the  Continent.  From 
this  it  will  be  seen  that  Arnold  )ed  a  busy,  often  a  laborious  life,  and 
we  can  appreciate  his  statement  that  all  his  best  literary  work  was 
done  late  at  night,  after  a  day  of  drudgery.  It  is  well  to  remember 
that,  while  Carlyle  was  preaching  about  labor,  Arnold  labored  daily ; 
that  his  work  was  cheerfully  and  patiently  done ;  and  that  after  the 
day's  work  he  hurried  away,  like  Lamb,  to  the  Elysian  fields  of  litera- 
ture. He  was  happily  married,  loved  his  home,  and  especially  loved 
children,  was  free  from  all  bitterness  and  envy,  and,  notwithstanding 
his  cold  manner,  was  at  heart  sincere,  generous,  and  true.  We  shall 
appreciate  his  work  better  if  we  can  see  the  man  himself  behind  all 
that  he  has  written. 

Arnold's  literary  work  divides  itself  into  three  periods,  which  we 
may  call  the  poetical,  the  critical,  and  the  practical.  He  had  written 
poetry  since  his  school  days,  and  his  first  volume,  The  Strayed  Reveller 
and  Other  Poems,  appeared  anonymously  in  1849.  Three  years  later 
he  published  Empedocles  on  Etna,  and  other  Poems  ;  but  only  a  few- 
copies  of  these  volumes  were  sold,  and  presently  both  were  withdrawn 
irom  circulation.  In  1853—1855  he  published  his  signed  Poems,  and 
twelve  years  later  appeared  his  last  volume  of  poetry.  Compared  with 
the  early  work  of  Tennyson,  these  works  met  with  little  favor,  and 
Arnold  practically  abandoned  poetry  in  favor  of  critical  writing. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  547 

The  chief  works  of  his  critical  period  are  the  lectures  On  Trans- 
lating Homer  (1861)  and  the  two  volumes  of  Essays  in  Criticism 
(1865-1888),  which  made  Arnold  one  of  the  best  known  literary 
men  in  England.  Then,  like  Ruskin,  he  turned  to  practical  ques- 
tions, and  his  Friendship's  Garland  (1871)  was  intended  to  satirize 
and  perhaps  reform  the  great  middle  class  of  England,  whom  he 
called  the  Philistines.  Culture  and  Anarchy,  the  most  characteristic 
work  of  his  practical  period,  appeared  in  1869.  These  were  followed 
by  four  books  on  religious  subjects,  —  St.  Paul  and  Protestantism 
(1870),  Literature  and  Dogma  (1873),  God  and  the  Bible  (1875), 
and  Last  Essays  on  Church  and  Religion  (1877).  The  Discourses  in 
America  (1885)  completes  the  list  of  his  important  works.  At  the 
height  of  his  fame  and  influence  he  died  suddenly,  in  1888,  and  was 
buried  in  the  churchyard  at  Laleham.  The  spirit  of  his  whole  life 
is  well  expressed  in  a  few  lines  of  one  of  his  own  early  sonnets : 

One  lesson,  Nature,  let  me  learn  of  thee, 

One  lesson  which  in  every  wind  is  blown, 

One  lesson  of  two  duties  kept  at  one 

Though  the  loud  world  proclaim  their  enmity — 

Of  toil  unsever'd  from  tranquillity ; 

Of  labour,  that  in  lasting  fruit  outgrows 

Far  noisier  schemes,  accomplish'd  in  repose, 

Too  great  for  haste,  too  high  for  rivalry. 

Works  of   Matthew  Arnold.    We   shall  better  appreciate 

Arnold's  poetry  if  we  remember  two  things  :    First,  he  bad 

been  taught  in  his  home  a  simple  and  devout  faith 

His  Poetry       .  ,&  .        ..    . 

in  revealed  religion,  and  in  college  he  was  thrown 
into  a  world  of  doubt  and  questioning.  He  faced  these  doubts 
honestly,  reverently,  —  in  his  heart  longing  to  accept  the  faith 
of  his  fathers,  but  in  his  head  demanding  proof  and  scientific 
exactness.  The  same  struggle  between  head  and  heart,  be- 
tween reason  and  intuition,  goes  on  to-day,  and  that  is  one 
reason  why  Arnold's  poetry,  which  wavers  on  the  borderland 
between  doubt  and  faith,  is  a  favorite  with  many  readers. 
Second,  Arnold,  as  shown  in  his  essay  on  The  Study  of  Poetry ', 
regarded  poetry  as  "  a  criticism  of  life  under  the  conditions 
fixed  for  such  criticism  by  the  laws  of  poetic  truth  and  poetic 


548  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

beauty."  Naturally,  one  who  regards  poetry  as  a  "  criticism  " 
will  write  very  differently  from  one  who  regards  poetry  as  the 
natural  language  of  the  soul.  He  will  write  for  the  head  rather 
than  for  the  heart,  and  will  be  cold  and  critical  rather  than  en- 
thusiastic. According  to  Arnold,  each  poem  should  be  a  unit, 
and  he  protested  against  the  tendency  of  English  poets  to  use 
brilliant  phrases  and  figures  of  speech  which  only  detract 
attention  from  the  poem  as  a  whole.  For  his  models  he  went 
to  Greek  poetry,  which  he  regarded  as  "  the  only  sure  guid- 
ance to  what  is  sound  and  true  in  poetical  art."  Arnold  is, 
however,  more  indebted  than  he  thinks  to  English  masters, 
especially  to  Wordsworth  and  Milton,  whose  influence  is 
noticeable  in  a  large  part  of  his  poetry. 

Of  Arnold's  narrative  poems  the  two  best  known  are  Bal- 
der Dead  (1855),  an  incursion  into  the  field  of  Norse  mythol- 
ogy which  is  suggestive  of  Gray,  and  Sohrab  and  Rustum 
(1853),  which  takes  us  into  the  field  of  legendary  Persian 
history.  The  theme  of  the  latter  poem  is  taken  from  the 
Shah-Namah  (Book  of  Kings)  of  the  Persian  poet  Firdausi, 
who  lived  and  wrote  in  the  eleventh  century. 

Briefly,  the  story  is  of  one  Rustem  or  Rustum,  a  Persian  Achilles,  who 
fell  asleep  one  day  when  he  had  grown  weary  of  hunting.  While  he 
slept  a  band  of  robbers  stole  his  favorite  horse,  Ruksh.  In 
trailing  the  robbers  Rustum  came  to  the  palace  of  the  king 
of  Samengan,  where  he  was  royally  welcomed,  and  where 
he  fell  in  love  with  the  king's  daughter,  Temineh,  and  married  her.  But 
he  was  of  a  roving,  adventurous  disposition,  and  soon  went  back  to  fight 
among  his  own  people,  the  Persians.  While  he  was  gone  his  son  Sohrab 
was  born,  grew  to  manhood,  and  became  the  hero  of  the  Turan  army. 
War  arose  between  the  two  peoples,  and  two  hostile  armies  were  en- 
camped by  the  Oxus.  Each  army  chose  a  champion,  and  Rustum  and 
Sohrab  found  themselves  matched  in  mortal  combat  between  the  lines. 
At  this  point  Sohrab,  whose  chief  interest  in  life  was  to  find  his  father, 
demanded  to  know  if  his  enemy  were  not  Rustum  ;  but  the  latter  was 
disguised  and  denied  his  identity.  On  the  first  day  of  the  fight  Rustum 
was  overcome,  but  his  life  was  spared  by  a  trick  and  by  the  generosity 
of  Sohrab.  On  the  second  day  Rustum  prevailed,  and  mortally  wounded 
his  antagonist.  Then  he  recognized  his  own  son  by  a  gold  bracelet 


iaec 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  549 

which  he  had  long  ago  given  to  his  wife  Temineh.  The  two  armies, 
rushing  into  battle,  were  stopped  by  the  sight  of  father  and  son  weep- 
ing in  each  other's  arms.  Sohrab  died,  the  war  ceased,  and  Rustum 
went  home  to  a  life  of  sorrow  and  remorse. 

Using  this  interesting  material,  Arnold  produced  a  poem 
which  has  the  rare  and  difficult  combination  of  classic  reserve 
and  romantic  feeling.  It  is  written  in  blank  verse,  and  one 
has  only  to  read  the  first  few  lines  to  see  that  the  poet  is  not 
a  master  of  his  instrument.  The  lines  are  seldom  harmonious, 
and  we  must  frequently  change  the  accent  of  common  words, 
or  lay  stress  on  unimportant  particles,  to  show  the  rhythm. 
Arnold  frequently  copies  Milton,  especially  in  his  repetition 
of  ideas  and  phrases  ;  but  the  poem  as  a  whole  is  lacking  in 
Milton's  wonderful  melody. 

The  classic  influence  on  Sohrab  and  Rustum  is  especially 
noticeable  in  Arnold's  use  of  materials.  Fights  are  short ; 
grief  is  long ;  therefore  the  poet  gives  few  lines  to  the  com- 
bat, but  lingers  over  the  son's  joy  at  finding  his  father,  and 
the  father's  quenchless  sorrow  at  the  death  of  his  son.  The 
last  lines  especially,  with  their  "  passionate  grief  set  to  solemn 
music,"  make  this  poem  one  of  the  best,  on  the  whole,  that 
Arnold  has  written.  And  the  exquisite  ending,  where  the 
Oxus,  unmindful  of  the  trivial  strifes  of  men,  flows  on  sedately 
to  join  "his  luminous  home  of  waters"  is  most  suggestive  of 
the  poet's  conception  of  the  orderly  life  of  nature,  in  contrast 
with  the  doubt  and  restlessness  of  human  life. 

Next  in  importance  to  the  narrative  poems  are  the  elegies, 
"Thyrsis,"  "The  Scholar-Gipsy,"  "Memorial  Verses,"  "A 
Misceiia-  Southern  Night,"  "  Obermann,"  "  Stanzas  from  the 
neous Poems  Grande  Chartreuse,"  and  "Rugby  Chapel."  All 
these  are  worthy  of  careful  reading,  but  the  best  is  "  Thyrsis," 
a  lament  for  the  poet  Clough,  which  is  sometimes  classed  with 
Milton's  Lycidas  and  Shelley's  Adonais.  Among  the  minor 
poems  the  reader  will  find  the  best  expression  of  Arnold's 
ideals  and  methods  in  "Dover  Beach,"  the  love  lyrics  entitled 


550  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

" Switzerland,"  "Requiescat,"  "  Shakespeare/'  "The  Future," 
"Kensington  Gardens,"  "Philomela,"  "Human  Life,"  "  Cal- 
licles's  Song,"  "Morality,"  and  "  Geist's  Grave," — the  last 
being  an  exquisite  tribute  to  a  little  dog  which,  like  all  his 
kind,  had  repaid  our  scant  crumbs  of  affection  with  a  whole 
life's  devotion. 

The  first  place  among  Arnold's  prose  works  must  be  given 
to  the  Essays  in  Criticism,  which  raised  the  author  to  the 
Essays  in  front  rank  of  living  critics.  His  fundamental  idea 
Criticism  of  criticism  appeals  to  us  strongly.  The  business 
of  criticism,  he  says,  is  neither  to  find  fault  nor  to  display  the 
critic's  own  learning  or  influence;  it  is  to  know  "the  best 
which  has  been  thought  and  said  in  the  world,"  and  by  using 
this  knowledge  to  create  a  current  of  fresh  and  free  thought. 
If  a  choice  must  be  made  among  these  essays,  which  are  all 
worthy  of  study,  we  would  suggest  "  The  Study  of  Poetry," 
"Wordsworth,"  "  Byron,"  and  "  Emerson."  The  last-named 
essay,  which  is  found  in  the  Discourses  in  America,  is  hardly 
a  satisfactory  estimate  of  Emerson,  but  its  singular  charm 
of  manner  and  its  atmosphere  of  intellectual  culture  make  it 
perhaps  the  most  characteristic  of  Arnold's  prose  writings. 

Among  the  works  of  Arnold's  practical  period  there  are  two 
which  may  be  taken  as  typical  of  all  the  rest.  Literature  and 
Dogma  (1873)  is,  in  general,  a  plea  for  liberality  in  religion. 
Arnold  would  have  us  read  the  Bible,  for  instance,  as  we  would 
read  any  other  great  work,  and  apply  to  it  the  ordinary  stand- 
ards of  literary  criticism. 

Culture  and  Anarchy  (1869)  contains  most  of  the  terms  — 
culture,  sweetness  and  light,  Barbarian,  Philistine,  Hebraism, 
Culture  and  an^  many  others  —  which  are  now  associated  with 
Anarchy  Arnold's  work  and  influence.  The  term  "  Barbarian  " 
refers  to  the  aristocratic  classes,  whom  Arnold  thought  to  be 
essentially  crude  in  soul,  notwithstanding  their  good  clothes 
and  superficial  graces.  "  Philistine "  refers  to  the  middle 
classes,  —  narrow-minded  and  self-satisfied  people,  according 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 


551 


to  Arnold,  whom  he  satirizes  with  the  idea  of  opening  their 
minds  to  new  ideas.  "  Hebraism  "  is  Arnold's  term  for  moral 
education.  Carlyle  had  emphasized  the  Hebraic  or  moral  ele- 
ment in  life,  and  Arnold  undertook  to  preach  the  Hellenic  or 
intellectual  element,  which  welcomes  new  ideas,  and  delights 
in  the  arts  that  reflect  the  beauty  of  the  world.  "  The  upper- 
most idea  with  Hellenism,"  he  says,  "  is  to  see  things  as  they 
are ;  the  uppermost  idea  with  Hebraism  is  conduct  and  obe- 
dience." With  great  clearness,  sometimes  with  great  force, 
and  always  with  a  play  of  humor  and  raillery  aimed  at  the 
"  Philistines,"  Arnold  pleads  for  both  these  elements  in  life 
which  together  aim  at  "-Culture,"  that  is,  at  moral  and  intel- 
lectual perfection. 

General  Characteristics.  Arnold's  influence  in  our  literature 
may  be  summed  up,  in  a  word,  as  intellectual  rather  than  in- 
spirational. One  cannot  be  enthusiastic  over  his  poetry,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  he  himself  lacked  enthusiasm.  He  is, 
however,  a  true  reflection  of  a  very  real  mood  of  the  past  cen- 
tury, the  mood  of  doubt  and  sorrow ;  and  a  future  genera- 
tion may  give  him  a  higher  place  than  he  now  holds  as  a 
poet.  Though  marked  by  "the  elemental  note  of  sadness,"  all 
Arnold's  poems  are  distinguished  by  clearness,  simplicity,  and 
the  restrained  emotion  of  his  classic  models. 

As  a  prose  writer  the  cold  intellectual  quality,  which  mars 
his  poetry  by  restraining  romantic  feeling,  is  of  first  importance, 
since  it  leads  him  to  approach  literature  with  an  open  mind 
and  with  the  single  desire  to  find  "the  best  which  has  been 
thought  and  said  in  the  world."  We  cannot  yet  speak  with 
confidence  of  his  rank  in  literature ;  but  by  his  crystal-clear 
style,  his  scientific  spirit  of  inquiry  and  comparison,  illumined 
here  and  there  by  the  play  of  humor,  and  especially  by  his 
broad  sympathy  and  intellectual  culture,  he  seems  destined  to 
occupy  a  very  high  place  among  the  masters  of  literary 
criticism. 


552  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN  (1801-1890) 

Any  record  of  the  prose  literature  of  the  Victorian  era, 
which  includes  the  historical  essays  of  Macaulay  and  the  art 
criticism  of  Ruskin,  should  contain  also  some  notice  of  its 
spiritual  leaders.  For  there  was  never  a  time  when  the  re- 
ligious ideals  that  inspire  the  race  were  kept  more  constantly 
before  men's  minds  through  the  medium  of  literature. 

Among  the  religious  writers  of  the  age  the  first  place  be- 
longs unquestionably  to  Cardinal  Newman.  Whether  we  con- 
sider him  as  a  man,  with  his  powerful  yet  gracious  personality, 
or  as  a  religious  reformer,  who  did  much  to  break  down  old 
religious  prejudices  by  showing  the  underlying  beauty  and 
consistency  of  the  Roman  church,  or  as  a  prose  writer  whose 
style  is  as  near  perfection  as  we  have  ever  reached,  Newman 
is  one  of  the  most  interesting  figures  of  the  whole  nine- 
teenth century. 

Life.  Three  things  stand  out  clearly  in  Newman's  life  :  first,  his 
unshaken  faith  in  the  divine  companionship  and  guidance ;  second, 
his  desire  to  find  and  to  teach  the  truth  of  revealed  religion ;  third, 
his  quest  of  an  authoritative  standard  of  faith,  which  should  remain 
steadfast  through  the  changing  centuries  and  amid  all  sorts  and  con- 
ditions of  men.  The  first  led  to  that  rare  and  beautiful  spiritual 
quality  which  shines  in  all  his  work ;  the  second  to  his  frequent 
doctrinal  and  controversial  essays ;  the  third  to  his  conversion  to  the 
Catholic  church,  which  he  served  as  priest  and  teacher  for  the  last 
forty-five  years  of  his  life.  Perhaps  we  should  add  one  more  char- 
acteristic, —  the  practical  bent  of  his  religion ;  for  he  was  never  so 
busy  with  study  or  controversy  that  he  neglected  to  give  a  large  part 
of  his  time  to  gentle  ministration  among  the  poor  and  needy. 

He  was. born  in  London,  in  1801.  His  father  was  an  English 
banker ;  his  mother,  a  member  of  a  French  Huguenot  family,  was  a 
thoughtful,  devout  woman,  who  brought  up  her  son  in  a  way  which 
suggests  the  mother  of  Ruskin.  Of  his  early  training,  his  reading  of 
doctrinal  and  argumentative  works,  and  of  his  isolation  from  material 
things  in  the  thought  that  there  were  "two  and  only  two  absolute 
and  luminously  self-evident  beings  in  the  world,"  himself  and  his 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 


553 


Creator,  it  is  better  to  read  his  own  record  in  the  Apologia,  which 
is  a  kind  of  spiritual  biography. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen  Newman  had  begun  his  profound  study  of 
theological  subjects.  For  science,  literature,  art,  nature,  —  all  the 
broad  interests  which  attracted  other  literary  men  of  his  age,  —  he 
cared  little,  his  mind  being  wholly  occupied  with  the  history  and 
doctrines  of  the  Christian  church,  to  which  he  had  already  devoted 
his  life.  He  was  educated  first  at  the  school  in  Baling,  then  at 
Oxford,  taking  his  degree  in  the  latter  place  in  1820.  Though  his 
college  career  was  not  more  brilliant  than  that  of  many  unknown 
men,  his  unusual  ability  was  recognized  and  he  was  made  a  fellow 


^7=^~" 

y&    QUADRANGLE  OF  ORIEL   COLLEGE, 

$r  OXFORD 

of  Oriel  College,  retaining  the  fellowship,  and  leading  a  scholarly 
life  for  over  twenty  years.  In  1824  he  was  ordained  in  the  Anglican 
church,  and  four  years  later  was  chosen  vicar  of  St.  Mary's,  at 
Oxford,  where  his  sermons  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  cultivated 
audiences  that  gathered  from  far  and  near  to  hear  him. 

A  change  is  noticeable  in  Newman's  life  after  his  trip  to  the 
Mediterranean  in  1832.  He  had  begun  his  life  as  a  Calvinist,  but 
while  in  Oxford,  then  the  center  of  religious  unrest,  he  described 
himself  as  "  drifting  in  the  direction  of  Liberalism."  Then  study 
and  bereavement  and  an  innate  mysticism  led  him  to  a  profound 
sympathy  with  the  mediaeval  Church.  He  had  from  the  beginning 
opposed  Catholicism  ;  but  during  his  visit  to  Italy,  where  he  saw  the 
Roman  church  at  the  center  of  its  power  and  splendor,  many  of 


554  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

his  prejudices  were  overcome.  In  this  enlargement  of  his  spiritual 
horizon  Newman  was  greatly  influenced  by  his  friend  Hurrell  Froude, 
with  whom  he  made  the  first  part  of  the  journey.  His  poems  of  this 
period  (afterwards  collected  in  the  Lyra  Apostolica),  among  which 
is  the  famous  "Lead,  Kindly  Light,"  are  noticeable  for  their  radiant 
spirituality ;  but  one  who  reads  them  carefully  sees  the  beginning  of 
that  mental  struggle  which  ended  in  his  leaving  the  church  in  which 
he  was  born.  Thus  he  writes  of  the  Catholic  church,  whose  services 
he  had  attended  as  "one  who  in  a  foreign  land  receives  the  gifts  of 
a  good  Samaritan  ": 

0  that  thy  creed  were  sound  ! 

For  thou  dost  soothe  the  heart,  thou  church  of  Rome, 
By  thy  unwearied  watch  and  varied  round 
Of  service,  in  thy  Saviour's  holy  home. 

1  cannot  walk  the  city's  sultry  streets, 
But  the  wide  porch  invites  to  still  retreats, 

Where  passion's  thirst  is  calmed,  and  care's  unthankful  gloom. 

On  his  return  to  England,  in  1833,  he  entered  into  the  religious 
struggle  known  as  the  Oxford  or  Tractarian  Movement,1  and  speedily 
became  its  acknowledged  leader.  Those  who  wish  to  follow  this 
attempt  at  religious  reform,  which  profoundly  affected  the  life  of 
the  whole  English  church,  will  find  it  recorded  in  the  Tracts  for 
the  Times,  twenty-nine  of  which  were  written  by  Newman,  and  in 
his  Parochial  and  Plain  Sermons  (1837-1843).  After  nine  years  of 
spiritual  conflict  Newman  retired  to  Littlemore,  where,  with  a  few 
followers,  he  led  a  life  of  almost  monastic  seclusion,  still  striving  to 
reconcile  his  changing  belief  with  the  doctrines  of  his  own  church. 
Two  years  later  he  resigned  his  charge  at  St.  Mary's  and  left  the 
Anglican  communion,  —  not  bitterly,  but  with  a  deep  and  tender 
regret.  His  last  sermon  at  Littlemore  on  "  The  Parting  of  Friends  " 

1  The  Oxford  movement  in  religion  has  many  points  of  resemblance  to  the  Pre- 
Raphaelite  movement  in  art.  Both  protested  against  the  materialism  of  the  age,  and 
both  went  back  for  their  models  to  the  Middle  Ages.  Originally  the  movement  was  in- 
tended to  bring  new  life  to  the  Anglican  church  by  a  revival  of  the  doctrine  and  prac- 
tices of  an  earlier  period.  Recognizing  the  power  of  the  press,  the  leaders  chose  literature 
for  their  instrument  of  reform,  and  by  their  Tracts  for  the  Times  they  became  known 
as  Tractarians.  To  oppose  liberalism  and  to  restore  the  doctrine  and  authority  of  the 
early  Church  was  the  center  of  their  teaching.  Their  belief  might  be  summed  up  in  one 
great  article  of  the  Creed,  with  all  that  it  implies,  —  "  I  believe  in  one  Catholic  and  Apos- 
tolic Church."  The  movement  began  at  Oxford  with  Keble's  famous  sermon  on  "  National 
Apostasy,"  in  1833;  but  Newman  was  the  real  leader  of  the  movement,  which  practically 
ended  when  he  entered  the  Catholic  church  in  1845. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  555 

still  moves  us  profoundly,  like  the  cry  of  a  prophet  torn  by  personal 
anguish  in  the  face  of  duty.  In  1845  he  was  received  into  the 
Catholic  church,  and  the  following  year,  at  Rome,  he  joined  the 
community  of  St.  Philip  Neri,  "the  saint  of  gentleness  and  kind- 
ness," as  Newman  describes  him,  and  was  ordained  to  the  Roman 
priesthood. 

By  his  preaching  and  writing  Newman  had  exercised  a  strong 
influence  over  his  cultivated  English  hearers,  and  the  effect  of  his 
conversion  was  tremendous.  Into  the  theological  controversy  of 
the  next  twenty  years  we  have  no  mind  to  enter.  Through  it  all 
Newman  retained  his  serenity,  and,  though  a  master  of  irony  and 
satire,  kept  his  literary  power  always  subordinate  to  his  chief  aim, 
which  was  to  establish  the  truth  as  he  saw  it.  Whether  or  not  we 
agree  with  his  conclusions,  we  must  all  admire  the  spirit  of  the 
man,  which  is  above  praise  or  criticism.  His  most  widely  read  work, 
Apologia  Pro  Vita  Sua  (1864),  was  written  in  answer  to  an  unfortu- 
nate attack  by  Charles  Kingsley,  which  would  long  since  have  been 
forgotten  had  it  not  led  to  this  remarkable  book.  In  1854  Newman 
was  appointed  rector  of  the  Catholic  University  in  Dublin,  but  after 
four  years  returned  to  England  and  founded  a  Catholic  school  at 
Edgbaston.  In  1879  he  was  made  cardinal  by  Pope  Leo  XIII.  The 
grace  and  dignity  of  his  life,  quite  as  much  as  the  sincerity  of  his 
Apologia,  had  long  since  disarmed  criticism,  and  at  his  death,  in 
1890,  the  thought  of  all  England  might  well  be  expressed  by  his  own 
lines  in  "  The  Dream  of  Gerontius  "  : 

I  had  a  dream.    Yes,  some  one  softly  said 

"  He  's  gone,"  and  then  a  sigh  went  round  the  room; 
And  then  I  surely  heard  a  priestly  voice 

Cry  Subvenite  j  and  they  knelt  in  prayer. 

Works  of  Newman.  Readers  approach  Newman  from  so 
many  different  motives,  some  for  doctrine,  some  for  argument, 
Apologia  Pro  some  for  a  pure  prose  style,  that  it  is  difficult  to 
vita  Sua  recommend  the  best  works  for  the  beginner's  use. 
As  an  expression  of  Newman's  spiritual  struggle  the  Apologia 
Pro  Vita  Sua  is  perhaps  the  most  significant.  This  book  is 
not  light  reading,  and  one  who  opens  it  should  understand 
clearly  the  reasons  for  which  it  was  written.  Newman  had 
been  accused  of  insincerity,  not  only  by  Kingsley  but  by 


556  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

many  other  men,  in  the  public  press.  His  retirement  to  soli- 
tude and  meditation  at  Littlemore  had  been  outrageously 
misunderstood,  and  it  was  openly  charged  that  his  conver- 
sion was  a  cunningly  devised  plot  to  win  a  large  number  of 
his  followers  to  the  Catholic  church.  This  charge  involved 
others,  and  it  was  to  defend  them,  as  well  as  to  vindicate 
himself,  that  Newman  wrote  the  Apologia.  The  perfect  sin- 
cerity with  which  he  traced  his  religious  history,  showing  that 
his  conversion  was  only  the  final  step  in  a  course  he  had  been 
following  since  boyhood,  silenced  his  critics  and  revolutionized 
public  opinion  concerning  himself  and  the  church  which  he 
had  joined.  As  the  revelation  of  a  soul's  history,  and  as  a 
model  of  pure,  simple,  unaffected  English,  this  book,  entirely 
apart  from  its  doctrinal  teaching,  deserves  a  high  place  in 
our  prose  literature. 

In  Newman's  doctrinal  works,  the  Via  Media,  the  Grammar 
of  Assent,  and  in  numerous  controversial  essays  the  student 
of  literature  will  have  little  interest.  Much  more  significant 
are  his  sermons,  the  unconscious  reflection  of  a  rare  spiritual 
nature,  of  which  Professor  Shairp  said:  "His  power  shows 
itself  clearly  in  the  new  and  unlooked-for  way  in  which  he 
touched  into  life  old  truths,  moral  or  spiritual.  .  .  .  And  as 
he  spoke,  how  the  old  truth  became  new !  and  how  it  came 
home  with  a  meaning  never  felt  before !  He  laid  his  finger 
how  gently  yet  how  powerfully  on  some  inner  place  in  the 
hearer's  heart,  and  told  him  things  about  himself  he  had  never 
known  till  then.  Subtlest  truths,  which  would  have  taken 
philosophers  pages  of  circumlocution  and  big  words  to  state, 
were  dropped  out  by  the  way  in  a  sentence  or  two  of  the 
most  transparent  Saxon."  Of  greater  interest  to  the  general 
reader  are  The  Idea  of  a  University,  discourses  delivered  at 
Dublin,  and  his  two  works  of  fiction,  Loss  and  Gain,  treating 
of  a  man's  conversion  to  Catholicism,  and  Callista,  which  is, 
in  his  own  words,  "  an  attempt  to  express  the  feelings  and 
mutual  relations  of  Christians  and  heathens  in  the  middle  of 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  557 

the  third  century."  The  latter  is,  in  our  judgment,  the  most 
readable  and  interesting  of  Newman's  works.  The  character 
of  Callista,  a  beautiful  Greek  sculptor  of  idols,  is 
powerfully  delineated  ;  the  style  is  clear  and  trans- 
parent as  air,  and  the  story  of  the  heroine's  conversion  and 
death  makes  one  of  the  most  fascinating  chapters  in  fiction, 
though  it  is  not  the  story  so  much  as  the  author's  unconscious 
revelation  of  himself  that  charms  us.  It  would  be  well  to  read 
this  novel  in  connection  with  Kingsley's  Hypatia,  which  at- 
tempts to  reconstruct  the  life  and  ideals  of  the  same  period. 

Newman's  poems  are  not  so  well  known  as  his  prose,  but 
the  reader  who  examines  the  Lyra  Apostolica  and  Verses  on 
Various  Occasions  will  find  many  short  poems  that 
stir  a  religious  nature  profoundly  by  their  pure  and 
lofty  imagination ;  and  future  generations  may  pronounce  one 
of  these  poems,  "The  Dream  of  Gerontius,"  to  be  Newman's 
most  enduring  work.  This  poem  aims  to  reproduce  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  of  a  man  whose  soul  is  just  quitting  the  body,  and 
who  is  just  beginning  a  new  and  greater  life.  Both  in  style 
and  in  thought  "The  Dream"  is  a  powerful  and  original  poem 
and  is  worthy  of  attention  not  only  for  itself  but,  as  a  modern 
critic  suggests,  "as  a  revelation  of  that  high  spiritual  purpose 
which  animated  Newman's  life  from  beginning  to  end." 

Of  Newman's  style  it  is  as  difficult  to  write  as  it  would  be 
to  describe  the  dress  of  a  gentleman  we  had  met,  who  was 
Newman's  so  perfectly  dressed  that  we  paid  no  attention  to 
Style  his  dothes.  His  style  is  called  transparent,  because 

at  first  we  are  not  conscious  of  his  manner ;  and  unobtrusive, 
because  we  never  think  of  Newman  himself,  but  only  of  the 
subject  he  is  discussing.  He  is  like  the  best  French  prose 
writers  in  expressing  his  thought  with  such  naturalness  and 
apparent  ease  that,  without  thinking  of  style,  we  receive  ex- 
actly the  impression  which  he  means  to  convey.  In  his  ser- 
mons and  essays  he  is  wonderfully  simple  and  direct  ;  in  his 
controversial  writings,  gently  ironical  and  satiric,  and  the 


558  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

satire  is  pervaded  by  a  delicate  humor  ;  but  when  his  feelings 
are  aroused  he  speaks  with  poetic  images  and  symbols,  and 
his  eloquence  is  like  that  of  the  Old  Testament  prophets. 
Like  Ruskin's,  his  style  is  modeled  largely  on  that  of  the 
Bible,  but  not  even  Ruskin  equals  him  in  the  poetic  beauty 
and  melody  of  his  sentences.  On  the  whole  he  comes  nearer 
than  any  other  of  his  age  to  our  ideal  of  a  perfect  prose  writer. 

Other  Essayists  of  the  Victorian  Age.  We  have  selected 
the  above  five  essayists,  Macaulay,  Carlyle,  Arnold,  Newman, 
Critical  an^  Ruskin,  as  representative  writers  of  the  Vic- 
Writers  torian  Age ;  but  there  are  many  others  who  well 
repay  our  study.  Notable  among  these  are  John  Addington 
Symonds,  author  of  The  Renaissance  in  Italy,  undoubtedly 
his  greatest  work,  and  of  many  critical  essays  ;  Walter  Pater, 
whose  Appreciations  and  numerous  other  works  mark  him  as 
one  of  our  best  literary  critics  ;  and  Leslie  Stephen,  famous 
for  his  work  on  the  monumental  Dictionary  of  National  Biog- 
raphy, and  for  his  Hours  in  a  Library,  a  series  of  impartial 
and  excellent  criticisms,  brightened  by  the  play  of  an  original 
and  delightful  humor. 

Among  the  most  famous  writers  of  the  age  are  the  scien- 
tists, Lyell,  Darwin,  Huxley,  Spencer,  Tyndall,  and  Wallace, 
—  a  wonderful  group  of  men  whose  works,  though 

The  Scientists  .          ,         ,.      ,     .& 

they  hardly  belong  to  our  present  study,  have  ex- 
ercised an  incalculable  influence  on  our  life  and  literature. 
Darwin's  Origin  of  Species  (1859),  which  apparently  estab- 
lished the  theory  of  evolution,  was  an  epoch-making  book. 
It  revolutionized  not  only  our  conceptions  of  natural  history, 
but  also  our  methods  of  thinking  on  all  the  problems  of  human 
society.  Those  who  would  read  a  summary  of  the  greatest 
scientific  discovery  of  the  age  will  find  it  in  Wallace's  Dar- 
winism,—  a  most  interesting  book,  written  by  the  man  who 
claims,  with  Darwin,  the  honor  of  first  announcing  the  principle 
of  evolution.  And,  from  a  multitude  of  scientific  works,  we 
recommend  also  to  the  general  reader  Huxley's  Autobiography 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  559 

and  his  Lay  Sermons,  Addresses,  and  Reviews,  partly  because 
they  are  excellent  expressions  of  the  spirit  and  methods  of 
science,  and  partly  because  Huxley  as  a  writer  is  perhaps  the 
clearest  and  the  most  readable  of  the  scientists. 

The  Spirit  of  Modern  Literature.  As  we  reflect  on  the  va- 
ried work  of  the  Victorian  writers,  three  marked  characteristics 
invite  our  attention.  First,  our  great  literary  men,  no  less 
than  our  great  scientists,  have  made  truth  the  supreme  object 
of  human  endeavor.  All  these  eager  poets,  novelists,  and 
essayists,  questing  over  so  many  different  ways,  are  equally 
intent  on  discovering  the  truth  of  life.  Men  as  far  apart  as 
Darwin  and  Newman  are  strangely  alike  in  spirit,  one  seeking 
truth  in  the  natural,  the  other  in  the  spiritual  history  of  the 
race.  Second,  literature  has  become  the  mirror  of  truth  ;  and 
the  first  requirement  of  every  serious  novel  or  essay  is  to  be 
true  to  the  life  or  the  facts  which  it  represents.  Third,  litera- 
ture has  become  animated  by  a  definite  moral  purpose.  It  is 
not  enough  for  the  Victorian  writers  to  create  or  attempt  an 
artistic  work  for  its  own  sake ;  the  work  must  have  a  definite 
lesson  for  humanity.  The  poets  are  not  only  singers,  but 
leaders  ;  they  hold  up  an  ideal,  and  they  compel  men  to  recog- 
nize and  follow  it.  The  novelists  tell  a  story  which  pictures 
human  life,  and  at  the  same  time  call  us  to  the  work  of  social 
reform,  or  drive  home  a  moral  lesson.  The  essayists  are  nearly 
all  prophets  or  teachers,  and  use  literature  as  the  chief  instru- 
ment of  progress  and  education.  Among  them  all  we  find 
comparatively  little  of  the  exuberant  fancy,  the  romantic 
ardor,  and  the  boyish  gladness  of  the  Elizabethans.  They 
write  books  not  primarily  to  delight  the  artistic  sense,  but  to 
give  bread  to  the  hungry  and  water  to  the  thirsty  in  soul. 
Milton's  famous  sentence,  "  A  good  book  is  the  precious  life- 
blood  of  a  master  spirit,"  might  be  written  across  the  whole 
Victorian  era.  We  are  still  too  near  these  writers  to  judge 
how  far  their  work  suffers  artistically  from  their  practical 
purpose ;  but  this  much  is  certain,  —  that  whether  or  not 


560  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

they  created  immortal  works,  their  books  have  made  the 
present  world  a  better  and  a  happier  place  to  live  in.  And 
that  is  perhaps  the  best  that  can  be  said  of  the  work  of  any 
artist  or  artisan. 

Summary  of  the  Victorian  Age.  The  year  1830  is  generally  placed  at  the 
beginning  of  this  period,  but  its  limits  are  very  indefinite.  In  general  we  may 
think  of  it  as  covering  the  reign  of  Victoria  (1837-1901).  Historically  the  age 
is  remarkable  for  the  growth  of  democracy  following  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832  ; 
for  the  spread  of  education  among  all  classes ;  for  the  rapid  development  of  the 
arts  and  sciences ;  for  important  mechanical  inventions  ;  and  for  the  enormous 
extension  of  the  bounds  of  human  knowledge  by  the  discoveries  of  science. 

At  the  accession  of  Victoria  the  romantic  movement  had  spent  its  force; 
Wordsworth  had  written  his  best  work ;  the  other  romantic  poets,  Coleridge, 
Shelley,  Keats,  and  Byron,  had  passed  away ;  and  for  a  time  no  new  develop- 
ment was  apparent  in  English  poetry.  Though  the  Victorian  Age  produced 
two  great  poets,  Tennyson  and  Browning,  the  age,  as  a  whole,  is  remarkable 
for  the  variety  and  excellence  of  its  prose.  A  study  of  all  the  great  writers  of 
the  period  reveals  four  general  characteristics:  (i)  Literature  in  this  Age  has 
come  very  close  to  daily  life,  reflecting  its  practical  problems  and  interests,  and 
is  a  powerful  instrument  of  human  progress.  (2)  The  tendency  of  literature  is 
strongly  ethical ;  all  the  great  poets,  novelists,  and  essayists  of  the  age  are 
moral  teachers.  (3)  Science  in  this  age  exercises  an  incalculable  influence. 
On  the  one  hand  it  emphasizes  truth  as  the  sole  object  of  human  endeavor; 
it  has  established  the  principle  of  law  throughout  the  universe  ;  and  it  has 
given  us  an  entirely  new  view  of  life,  as  summed  up  in  the  word  "  evolution," 
that  is,  the  principle  of  growth  or  development  from  simple  to  complex  forms. 
On  the  other  hand,  its  first  effect  seems  to  be  to  discourage  works  of  the 
imagination.  Though  the  age  produced  an  incredible  number  of  books,  very 
few  of  them  belong  among  the  great  creative  works  of  literature.  (4)  Though 
the  age  is  generally  characterized  as  practical  and  materialistic,  it  is  significant 
that  nearly  all  the  writers  whom  the  nation  delights  to  honor  vigorously  at- 
tack materialism,  and  exalt  a  purely  ideal  conception  of  life.  On  the  whole,  we 
are  inclined  to  call  this  an  idealistic  age  fundamentally,  since  love,  truth,  jus- 
tice, brotherhood  —  all  great  ideals  —  are  emphasized  as  the  chief  ends  of  life, 
not  only  by  its  poets  but  also  by  its  novelists  and  essayists. 

In  our  study  we  have  considered:  (i)  The  Poets;  the  life  and  works  of 
Tennyson  and  Browning ;  and  the  chief  characteristics  of  the  minor  poets, 
Elizabeth  Barrett  (Mrs.  Browning),  Rossetti,  Morris,  and  Swinburne.  (2)  The 
Novelists ;  the  life  and  works  of  Dickens,  Thackeray,  and  George  Eliot ;  and 
the  chief  works  of  Charles  Reade,  Anthony  Trollope,  Charlotte  Bronte,  Bul- 
wer-Lytton,  Kingsley,  Mrs.  Gaskell,  Blackmore,  George  Meredith,  Hardy,  and 
Stevenson.  (3)  The  Essayists ;  the  life  and  works  of  Macaulay,  Matthew 
Arnold,  Carlyle,  Newman,  and  Ruskin.  These  were  selected,  from  among 
many  essayists  and  miscellaneous  writers,  as  most  typical  of  the  Victorian 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  561 

Age.  The  great  scientists,  like  Lyell,  Darwin,  Huxley,  Wallace,  Tyndall,  and 
Spencer,  hardly  belong  to  our  study  of  literature,  though  their  works  are  of 
vast  importance ;  and  we  omit  the  works  of  living  writers  who  belong  to  the 
present  rather  than  to  the  past  century. 

Selections  for  Reading.  Manly's  English  Poetry  and  Manly's  English 
Prose  (Ginn  and  Company)  contain  excellent  selections  from  all  authors  of 
this  period.  Many  other  collections,  like  Ward's  English  Poets,  Garnett's 
English  Prose  from  Elizabeth  to  Victoria,  Page's  British  Poets  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century,  and  Stedman's  A  Victorian  Anthology,  may  be  used  to  ad- 
vantage. All  important  works  may  be  found  in  the  convenient  and  inexpensive 
school  editions  given  below.  (For  full  titles  and  publishers  see  the  General 
Bibliography.) 

Tennyson.  Short  poems,  and  selections  from  Idylls  of  the  King,  In  Memo- 
riam,  Enoch  Arden,  and  The  Princess.  These  are  found  in  various  school 
editions,  Standard  English  Classics,  Pocket  Classics,  Riverside  Literature 
Series,  etc.  Poems  by  Tennyson,  selected  and  edited  with  notes  by  Henry 
Van  Dyke  (Athenaeum  Press  Series),  is  an  excellent  little  volume  for  beginners. 

Browning.  Selections,  edited  by  R.  M.  Lovett,  in  Standard  English  Classics. 
Other  school  editions  in  Everyman's  Library,  Belles  Lettres  Series,  etc. 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning.  Selections,  edited  by  Elizabeth  Lee,  in  Stand- 
ard English  Classics.  Selections  also  in  Pocket  Classics,  etc. 

Matthew  Arnold.  Sohrab  and  Rustum,  edited  by  Trent  and  Brewster,  in 
Standard  English  Classics.  The  same  poem  in  Riverside  Literature  Series,  etc. 
Selections  in  Golden  Treasury  Series,  etc.  Poems,  students'  edition  (Crowell). 
Essays  in  Everyman's  Library,  etc.  Prose  selections  (Holt,  Allyn  &  Bacon,  etc.). 

Dickens.  Tale  of  Two  Cities,  edited  by  J.  W.  Linn,  in  Standard  English 
Classics.  A  Christmas  Carol,  David  Copperfield,  and  Pickwick  Papers.  Vari- 
ous good  school  editions  of  these  novels  in  Everyman's  Library,  etc. 

Thackeray.  Henry  Esmond,  edited  by  H.  B.  Moore,  in  Standard  English 
Classics.  The  same  novel,  in  Everyman's  Library,  Pocket  Classics,  etc. 

George  Eliot.  Silas  Marner,  edited  by  R.  Adelaide  Witham,  in  Standard 
English  Classics.  The  same  novel,  in  Pocket  Classics,  etc. 

Carlyle.  Essay  on  Burns,  edited  by  C.  L.  Hanson,  in  Standard  English  Clas- 
sics, and  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship,  edited  by  A.  MacMechan,  in  Athenaeum 
Press  Series.  Selections,  edited  by  H.  W.  Boynton  (Allyn  &  Bacon).  Various 
other  inexpensive  editions,  in  Pocket  Classics,  Eclectic  English  Classics,  etc. 

Ruskin.  Sesame  and  Lilies,  edited  by  Lois  G.  Hufford,  in  Standard  Eng- 
lish Classics.  Other  editions  in  Riverside  Literature,  Everyman's  Library,  etc. 
Selected  Essays  and  Letters,  edited  by  Hufford,  in  Standard  English  Classics. 
Selections,  edited  by  Vida  D.  Scudder  (Sibley) ;  edited  by  C.  B.  Tinker,  in 
Riverside  Literature. 

Macaulay.  Essays  on  Addison  and  Milton,  edited  by  H.  A.  Smith,  in 
Standard  English  Classics.  Same  essays,  in  Cassell's  National  Library,  River- 
side Literature,  etc.  Lays  of  Ancient  Rome,  in  Standard  English  Classics, 
Pocket  Classics,  etc. 


562  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Newman.  Selections,  with  introduction  by  L.  E.  Gates  (Holt) ;  Selections 
from  prose  and  poetry,  in  Riverside  Literature.  The  Idea  of  a  University,  in 
Manly's  English  Prose. 

Bibliography.  (NOTE.  For  full  titles  and  publishers  of  general  reference 
books,  see  General  Bibliography.)  History.  Text-book,  Montgomery,  pp.  357- 
}S3 ;  Cheyney,  pp.  632-643.  General  Works.  Gardiner,  and  Traill.  Special 
Works.  McCarthy's  History  of  Our  Own  Times;  Bright's  History  of  Eng- 
land, vols.  4-5 ;  Lee's  Queen  Victoria ;  Bryce's  Studies  in  Contemporary 
Biography. 

Literature.  General  Works.  Garnett  and  Gosse,  Taine.  Special  Works. 
Harrison's  Early  Victorian  Literature ;  Saintsbury's  A  History  of  Nineteenth 
Century  Literature ;  Walker's  The  Age  of  Tennyson ;  same  author's  The 
Greater  Victorian  Poets ;  Morley's  Literature  of  the  Age  of  Victoria ;  Sted- 
man's  Victorian  Poets ;  Mrs.  Oliphant's  Literary  History  of  England  in  the 
Nineteenth  Century ;  Beers's  English  Romanticism  in  the  Nineteenth  Century ; 
Dowden's  Victorian  Literature,  in  Transcripts  and  Studies ;  Brownell's  Victo- 
rian Prose  Masters. 

Tennyson.  Texts:  Cabinet  edition  (London,  1897)  is  the  standard.  Various 
good  editions,  Globe,  Cambridge  Poets,  etc.  Selections  in  Athenaeum  Press 
(Ginn  and  Company). 

Life :  Alfred  Lord  Tennyson,  a  Memoir  by  his  son,  is  the  standard ;  by 
Lyall  (in  English  Men  of  Letters) ;  by  Horton ;  by  Waugh.  See  also  Anne 
T.  Ritchie's  Tennyson  and  His  Friends ;  Napier's  The  Homes  and  Haunts  of 
Tennyson  ;  Rawnsley's  Memories  of  the  Tennysons. 

Criticism :  Brooke's  Tennyson,  his  Art  and  his  Relation  to  Modern  Life ; 
A.  Lang's  Alfred  Tennyson ;  Van  Dyke's  The  Poetry  of  Tennyson ;  Sneath's 
The  Mind  of  Tennyson ;  Gwynn's  A  Critical  Study  of  Tennyson's  Works ; 
Luce's  Handbook  to  Tennyson's  Works ;  Dixon's  A  Tennyson  Primer ;  Mas- 
terman's  Tennyson  as  a  Religious  Teacher;  Collins's  The  Early  Poems  of 
Tennyson;  Macallum's  Tennyson's  Idylls  of  the  King  and  the  Arthurian  Story; 
Bradley's  Commentary  on  In  Memoriam;  Bagehot's  Literary  Studies,  vol.  2; 
Brightwell's  Concordance  ;  Shepherd's  Bibliography. 

Essays :  By  F.  Harrison,  in  Tennyson,  Ruskin,  Mill,  and  Other  Literary 
Estimates ;  by  Stedman,  in  Victorian  Poets  ;  by  Hutton,  in  Literary  Essays ; 
by  Dowden,  in  Studies  in  Literature ;  by  Gates,  in  Studies  and  Apprecia- 
tions ;  by  Forster,  in  Great  Teachers ;  by  Forman,  in  Our  Living  Poets.  See 
also  Myers's  Science  and  a  Future  Life. 

Browning.  Texts  :  Cambridge  and  Globe  editions,  etc.  Various  editions  of 
selections.  (See  Selections  for  Reading,  above.) 

Life :  by  W.  Sharp  (Great  Writers) ;  by  Chesterton  (English  Men  of 
Letters);  Life  and  Letters,  by  Mrs.  Sutherland  Orr;  by  Waugh,  in  Westmin- 
ster Biographies  (Small  &  Maynard). 

Criticism:  Symons's  An  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Browning;  same 
title,  by  Corson ;  Mrs.  Orr's  Handbook  to  the  Works  of  Browning ;  Nettle- 
ship's  Robert  Browning;  Brooke's  The  Poetry 'of  Robert  Browning;  Cooke's 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  563 

Browning  Guide  Book ;  Revell's  Browning's  Criticism  of  Life ;  Berdoe's 
Browning's  Message  to  his  Times ;  Berdoe's  Browning  Cyclopedia. 

Essays  :  by  Hutton,  Stedman,  Dowden,  Forster  (for  titles,  see  Tennyson, 
above) ;  by  Jacobs,  in  Literary  Studies ;  by  Chapman,  in  Emerson  and  Other 
Essays ;  by  Cooke,  in  Poets  and  Problems ;  by  Birrell,  in  Obiter  Dicta. 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning.  Texts :  Globe  and  Cambridge  editions,  etc. ; 
various  editions  of  selections.  Life :  by  J.  H.  Ingram ;  see  also  Bayne's  Two 
Great  Englishmen.  Kenyon's  Letters  of  E.  B.  Browning. 

Criticism :  Essays,  by  Stedman,  in  Victorian  Poets ;  by  Benson,  in  Essays. 

Matthew  Arnold.  Texts:  Poems,  Globe  edition,  etc.  See  Selections  for 
Reading,  above.  Life :  by  Russell ;  by  Saintsbury ;  by  Paul  (English  Men  of 
Letters);  Letters,  by  Russell. 

Criticism :  Essays,  by  Woodberry,  in  Makers  of  Literature ;  by  Gates,  in 
Three  Studies  in  Literature ;  by  Hutton,  in  Modern  Guides  of  English  Thought ; 
by  Brownell,  in  Victorian  Prose  Masters  ;  by  F.  Harrison  (see  Tennyson,  above). 

Dickens.  Texts  :  numerous  good  editions  of  novels.  Life  :  by  J.  Forster; 
by  Marzials  (Great  Writers) ;  by  Ward  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  Langton's 
The  Childhood  and  Youth  of  Dickens. 

Criticism :  Gissing's  Charles  Dickens ;  Chesterton's  Charles  Dickens ; 
Kitten's  The  Novels  of  Charles  Dickens ;  Fitzgerald's  The  History  of  Pick- 
wick. Essays"-,  by  F.  Harrison  (see  above) ;  by  Bagehot,  in  Literary  Studies ; 
by  Lilly,  in  Four  English  Humorists ;  by  A.  Lang,  in  Gadshill  edition  of 
Dickens's  works. 

Thackeray.  Texts  :  numerous  good  editions  of  novels  and  essays.  Life:  by 
Melville ;  by  Merivale  and  Marzials  (Great  Writers) ;  by  A.  Trollope  (English 
Men  of  Letters) ;  by  L.  Stephen,  in  Dictionary  of  National  Biography.  See 
also  Crowe's  Homes  and  Haunts  of  Thackeray;  Wilson's  Thackeray  in  the 
United  States. 

Criticism  :  Essays,  by  Lilly,  in  Four  English  Humorists  ;  by  Harrison,  in 
Studies  in  Early  Victorian  Literature ;  by  Scudder,  in  Social  Ideals  in  Eng- 
lish Letters  ;  by  Brownell,  in  Victorian  Prose  Masters. 

George  Eliot.  Texts:  numerous  editions.  Life:  by  L.  Stephen  (English 
Men  of  Letters) ;  by  O.  Browning  (Great  Writers) ;  by  her  husband,  J.  W.  Cross. 

Criticism :  Cooke's  George  Eliot,  a  Critical  Study  of  her  Life  and  Writings. 
Essays :  by  J.  Jacobs,  in  Literary  Studies ;  by  H.  James,  in  Partial  Portraits ; 
by  Dowden,  in  Studies  in  Literature;  by  Hutton,  Harrison,  Brownell,  Lilly 
(see  above).  See  also  Parkinson's  Scenes  from  the  George  Eliot  Country. 

Carlyle.  Texts :  various  editions  of  works.  Heroes,  and  Sartor  Resartus, 
in  Athenaeum  Press  (Ginn  and  Company) ;  Sartor,  and  Past  and  Present,  I  vol. 
(Harper);  Critical  and  Miscellaneous  Essays,  I  vol.  (Appleton) ;  Letters  and 
Reminiscences,  edited  by  C.  E.  Norton,  6  vols.  (Macmillan). 

Life :  by  Garnett  (Great  Writers)  ;  by  Nichol  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  by 
Froude,  2  vols.  (very  full,  but  not  trustworthy).  See  also  Carlyle's  Reminis- 
cences and  Correspondence,  and  Craig's  The  Making  of  Carlyle. 

Criticism :  Masson's  Carlyle  Personally  and  in  his  Writings.  Essays :  by  Low- 
ell, in  My  Study  Windows ;  by'^Harrison,  Brownell,  Hutton,  Lilly  (see  above). 


564  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Ruskin.  Texts :  Brantwood  edition,  edited  by  C.  E.  Norton ;  various 
editions  of  separate  works.  Life :  by  Harrison  (English  Men  of  Letters) ;  by 
Collingwood,  2  vols. ;  see  also  Ruskin's  Praeterita. 

Criticism :  Mather's  Ruskin,  his  Life  and  Teaching ;  Cooke's  Studies  in 
Ruskin ;  Waldstein's  The  Work  of  John  Ruskin ;  Hobson's  John  Ruskin, 
Social  Reformer ;  Mrs.  Meynell's  John  Ruskin ;  Sizeranne's  Ruskin  and  the 
Religion  of  Beauty,  translated  from  the  French ;  White's  Principles  of  Art ; 
W.  M.  Rossetti's  Ruskin,  Rossetti,  and  Pre-Raphaelitism. 

Essays  :  by  Robertson,  in  Modern  Humanists  ;  by  Saintsbury,  in  Corrected 
Impressions ;  by  Brownell,  Harrison,  Forster  (see  above). 

Macaulay.  Texts :  Complete  works,  edited  by  his  sister,  Lady  Trevelyan 
(London,  1866);  various  editions  of  separate  works  (see  Selections  for  Read- 
ing, above).  Life:  Life  and  Letters,  by  Trevelyan,  2  vols.;  by  Morrison  (Eng- 
lish Men  of  Letters). 

Criticism :  Essays,  byv  Bagehot,  in  Literary  Studies ;  by  L.  Stephen,  in 
Hours  in  a  Library ;  by  Saintsbury,  in  Corrected  Impressions ;  by  Harrison, 
in  Studies  in  Early  Victorian  Literature ;  by  Matthew  Arnold. 

Newman.  Texts:  Uniform  edition  of  important  works  (London,  1868- 
1881);  Apologia  (Longmans);  Selections  (Holt,  Riverside  Literature,  etc.). 
Life  :  Jennings's  Cardinal  Newman;  Hutton's  Cardinal  Newman;  Early  Life, 
by  F.  Newman  ;  by  Waller  and  Barrow,  in  Westminster  Biographies.  See  also 
Church's  The  Oxford  Movement ;  Fitzgerald's  Fifty  Years  of  Catholic  Life 
and  Progress. 

Criticism :  Essays,  by  Donaldson,  in  Five  Great  Oxford  Leaders ;  by 
Church,  in  Occasional  Papers,  vol.  2  ;  by  Gates,  in  Three  Studies  in  Litera- 
ture ;  by  Jacobs,  in  Literary  Studies ;  by  Hutton,  in  Modern  Guides  of  Eng- 
lish Thought;  by  Lilly,  in  Essays  and  Speeches;  by  Shairp,  in  Studies  in 
Poetry  and  Philosophy.  See  also  Hutton's  Cardinal  Newman. 

Rossetti.  Works,  2  vols.  (London,  1901).  Selections,  in  Golden  Treasury 
Series.  Life:  by  Knight  (Great  Writers) ;  by  Sharp;  Hall  Caine's  Recollec- 
tions of  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti ;  Gary's  The  Rossettis ;  Marillier's  Rossetti ; 
Wood's  Rossetti  and  the  Pre-Raphaelite  Movement;  W.  M.  Hunt's  Pre- 
Raphaelitism  and  the  Pre-Raphaelite  Brotherhood. 

Criticism:  Tirebuck's  Rossetti,  his  Work  and  Influence.  Essays  :  by  Swin- 
burne, in  Essays  and  Studies ;  by  Forman,  in  Our  Living  Poets ;  by  Pater,  in 
Ward's  English  Poets ;  by  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  in  Essays  Modern. 

Morris.  Texts :  Story  of  the  Glittering  Plain,  House  of  the  Wolfings,  etc. 
(Reeves  &  Turner) ;  Early  Romances,  in  Everyman's  Library ;  Sigurd  the 
Volsung,  in  Camelot  Series ;  Socialistic  writings  (Humboldt  Publishing  Co.). 
Life :  by  Mackail ;  by  Gary ;  by  Vallance. 

Criticism :  Essays,  by  Symons,  in  Studies  in  Two  Literatures ;  by  Dawson, 
in  Makers  of  Modern  English ;  by  Saintsbury,  in  Corrected  Impressions.  See 
also  Nordby's  Influence  of  Old  Norse  Literature. 

Swinburne.  Texts :  Complete  works  (Chatto  and  Windus) ;  Poems  and 
Ballads  (Lovell) ;  Selections  (Rivington,  Belles  Lettres  Series,  etc.).  Life; 
Wratislaw's  Algernon  Charles  Swinburne,  a  Study. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  565 

Criticism :  Essays,  by  Forman,  Saintsbury  (see  above) ;  by  Lowell,  in  My 
Study  Windows ;  see  also  Stedman's  Victorian  Poets. 

Charles  Reade.  Texts :  Cloister  and  the  Hearth,  in  Everyman's  Library ; 
various  editions  of  separate  novels.  Life  :  by  C.  Reade. 

Criticism :  Essay,  by  Swinburne,  in  Miscellanies. 

Anthony  Trollope.  Texts :  Royal  edition  of  principal  novels  (Philadelphia, 
1900);  Barchester  Towers,  etc.,  in  Everyman's  Library.  Life:  Autobiography 
(Harper,  1883). 

Criticism:  H.  T.  Peck's  Introduction  to  Royal  edition,  vol.  i.  Essays:  by 
H.  James,  in  Partial  Portraits;  by  Harrison,  in  Early  Victorian  Literature.  See 
also  Cross,  The  Development  of  the  English  Novel. 

Charlotte  and  Emily  Bronte.  Texts  :  Works,  Haworth  edition,  edited  by 
Mrs.  H.  Ward  (Harper);  Complete  works  (Dent,  1893);  Jane  Evre»  Shirley, 
and  Wuthering  Heights,  in  Everyman's  Library.  Life  of  Charlotte  Bronte  : 
by  Mrs.  Gaskell;  by  Shorter;  by  Birrell  (Great  Writers).  Life  of  Emily 
Bronte :  by  Robinson.  See  also  Leyland's  The  Bronte  Family. 

Criticism  :  Essays,  by  L.  Stephen,  in  Hours  in  a  Library ;  by  Gates,  in  Studies 
and  Appreciations  ;  by  Harrison,  in  Early  Victorian  Literature  ;  by  G.  B.  Smith, 
in  Poets  and  Novelists.  See  also  Swinburne's  A  Note  on  Charlotte  Bronte. 

Bulwer-Lytton.  Texts:  Works,  Knebsworth  edition  (Routledge) ;  various 
editions  of  separate  works;  Last  Days  of  Pompeii,  etc.,  in  Everyman's  Library. 
Life:  by  his  son,  the  Earl  of  Lytton;  by  Cooper;  by  Ten  Brink. 

Criticism:  Essay,  by  W.  Senior,  in  Essays  in  Fiction. 

Mrs.  Gaskell.  Various  editions  of  separate  works;  Cranford,  in  Standard 
English  Classics,  etc.  Life :  see  Dictionary  of  National  Biography.  Criticism : 
see  Saintsbury's  Nineteenth-Century  Literature. 

Kingsley.  Texts:  Works,  Chester  edition;  Hypatia,  Westward  Ho!  etc., 
in  Everyman's  Library.  Life :  Letters  and  Memories,  by  his  wife ;  by  Kaufmann. 

Criticism:  Essays,  by  Harrison,  in  Early  Victorian  Literature;  by  L.  Ste- 
phen, in  Hours  in  a  Library. 

Stevenson.  Texts :  Works  (Scribner) ;  Treasure  Island,  in  Everyman's  Li- 
brary; Master  of  Ballantrae,  in  Pocket  Classics;  Letters,  edited  by  Colvin 
(Scribner).  Life:  by  Balfour;  by  Baildon;  by  Black;  by  Cornford.  See  also 
Simpson's  Edinburgh  Days;  Fraser's  In  Stevenson's  Samoa;  Osborne  and 
Strong's  Memories  of  Vailima. 

Criticism:  Raleigh's  Stevenson;  Alice  Brown's  Stevenson.  Essays:  by  H. 
James,  in  Partial  Portraits;  by  Chapman,  in  Emerson  and  Other  Essays. 

Hardy.  Texts:  Works  (Harper).  Criticism:  Macdonnell's  Thomas  Hardy; 
Johnson's  The  Art  of  Thomas  Hardy.  See  also  Windle's  The  Wessex  of 
Thomas  Hardy ;  and  Dawson's  Makers  of  English  Fiction. 

George  Meredith.    Texts:  Novels  and  Selected  Poems  (Scribner). 

Criticism:  Le  Gallienne's  George  Meredith;  Hannah  Lynch's  George 
Meredith.  Essays :  by  Henley,  in  Views  and  Reviews ;  by  Brownell,  in  Vic- 
torian Prose  Masters;  by  Monkhouse,  in  Books  and  Plays.  See  also  Bailey's 
The  Novels  of  George  Meredith ;  Curie's  Aspects  of  George  Meredith ;  and 
Cross's  The  Development  of  the  English  Novel. 


566  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Suggestive  Questions.  (NOTE.  The  best  questions  are  those  which  are 
based  upon  the  books,  essays,  and  poems  read  by  the  pupil.  As  the  works 
chosen  for  special  study  vary  greatly  with  different  teachers  and  classes,  we 
insert  here  only  a  few  questions  of  general  interest.)  I.  What  are  the  chief 
characteristics  of  Victorian  literature  ?  Name  the  chief  writers  of  the  period 
in  prose  and  poetry.  What  books  of  this  period  are,  in  your  judgment,  worthy 
to  be  placed  among  the  great  works  of  literature?  What  effect  did  the  dis- 
coveries of  science  have  upon  the  literature  of  the  age?  What  poet  reflects 
the  new  conception  of  law  and  evolution  ?  What  historical  conditions  account 
for  the  fact  that  most  of  the  Victorian  writers  are  ethical  teachers  ? 

2.  Tennyson.    Give  a  brief  sketch  of  Tennyson's  life,  and  name  his  chief 
works.    Why  is  he,  like  Chaucer,  a  national  poet  ?   Is  your  pleasure  in  reading 
Tennyson  due  chiefly  to  the  thought  or  the  melody  of  expression?   Note  this 
figure  in  "  The  Lotos  Eaters": 

Music  that  gentlier  on  the  spirit  lies 
Than  tired  eyelids  upon  tired  eyes. 

What  does  this  suggest  concerning  Tennyson's  figures  of  speech  in  general? 
Compare  "  Locksley  Hall "  with  "  Locksley  Hall  Sixty  Years  After."  What 
differences  do  you  find  in  thought,  in  workmanship,  and  in  poetic  enthusiasm  ? 
What  is  Tennyson's  idea  of  faith  and  immortality  as  expressed  in  In  Memoriam  ? 

3.  Browning.    In  what  respects  is  Browning  like  Shakespeare?    What  is 
meant  by  the  optimism  of  his  poetry?    Can  you  explain  why  many  thoughtful 
persons  prefer  him  to  Tennyson?    What  is  Browning's  creed  as  expressed  in 
"Rabbi  Ben  Ezra"?    Read  "  Fra  Lippo  Lippi"  or  "Andrea  del  Sarto,"  and 
tell  what  is  meant  by  a  dramatic  monologue.   In  "  Andrea  "  what  is  meant  by 
the  lines, 

Ah,  but  a  man's  reach  should  exceed  his  grasp, 
Or  what 's  a  heaven  for  ? 

4.  Dickens.    What  experiences  in  Dickens's  life  are  reflected  in  his  novels  ? 
What  are  his  favorite  types  of  character  ?    What  is  meant  by  the  exaggeration 
of  Dickens?    What  was  the  serious  purpose  of  his  novels?    Make  a  brief 
analysis  of  the  Tale  of  Two  Cities,  having  in  mind  the  plot,  the  characters,  and 
the  style,  as  compared  with  Dickens's  other  novels. 

5.  Thackeray.    Read   Henry   Esmond  and   explain    Thackeray's    realism. 
What  is  there  remarkable  in  the  style  of  this  novel?    Compare  it  with  Ivanhoe 
as  a  historical  novel.    What  is  the  general  character  of  Thackeray's  satire? 
What  are  the  chief  characteristics  of  his  novels?    Describe  briefly  the  works 
which  show  his  great  skill  as  a  critical  writer. 

6.  George  Eliot.    Read  Silas  Marner  and  make  a  brief  analysis,  having  in 
mind  the  plot,  the  characters,  the  style,  and  the  ethical  teaching  of  the  novel. 
Is  the  moral  teaching  of  George  Eliot  convincing ;  that  is,  does  it  suggest  it- 
self from  the  story,  or  is  it  added  for  effect  ?    What  is  the  general  impression 
left  by  her  books?    How  do  her  characters  compare  with  those  of  Dickens 
and  Thackeray  ? 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  567 

7.  Carlyle.    Why  is  Carlyle  called  a  prophet,  and  why  a  censor?   Read  the 
Essay  on  Burns  and  make  an  analysis,  having  in  mind  the  style,  the  idea  of 
criticism,  and  the  picture  which  this  essay  presents  of  the  Scotch  poet.    Is 
Carlyle  chiefly  interested  in  Burns  or  in  his  poetry?    Does  he  show  any  marked 
appreciation  of  Burns's  power  as  a  lyric  poet  ?   What  is  Carlyle's  idea  of  history 
as  shown  in  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship  ?    What  experiences  of  his  own  life  are 
reflected  in  Sartor  Resartus  ?   What  was  Carlyle's  message  to  his  age  ?    What 
is  meant  by  a  "  Carlylese  "  style  ? 

8.  Macaulay.    In  what  respects  is  Macaulay  typical  of  his  age  ?    Compare 
his  view  of  life  with  that  of  Carlyle.    Read  one  of  the  essays,  on  Milton  or 
Addison,  and  make  an  analysis,  having  in  mind  the  style,  the  interest,  and  the 
accuracy  of  the  essay.    What  useful  purpose  does  Macaulay's  historical  knowl- 
edge serve  in  writing  his  literary  essays  ?    What  is  the  general  character  of 
Macaulay's  History  of  England?    Read  a  chapter  from  Macaulay's  History ', 
another  from  Carlyle's  French  Revolution,  and  compare  the  two.    How  does 
each  writer  regard  history  and  historical  writing  ?    What  differences  do  you 
note  in  their  methods  ?    What  are  the  best  qualities  of  each  work  ?    Why  are 
both  unreliable  ? 

9.  Arnold.    What  elements  of  Victorian  life  are  reflected  in  Arnold's  poetry  ? 
How  do  you  account  for  the  coldness  and  sadness  of  his  verses  ?    Read  Sohrab 
and  Riistum  and  write  an  account  of  it,  having  in  mind  the  story,  Arnold's 
use  of  his  material,  the  style,  and  the  classic  elements  in  the  poem.    How  does 
it  compare  in  melody  with  the  blank  verse  of  Milton  or  Tennyson  ?    What 
marked  contrasts  do  you  find  between  the  poetry  and  the  prose  of  Arnold  ? 

10.  Ruskin.    In  what  respects  is  Ruskin"the  prophet  of  modern  society"? 
Read  the  first  two  lectures  in  Sesame  and  Lilies  and  then  give  Ruskin's  views 
of  labor,  wealth,  books,  education,  woman's  sphere,  and  human  society.    How 
does  he  regard  the  commercialism  of  his  age  ?    What  elements  of  style  do  you 
find  in  these  lectures  ?   Give  the  chief  resemblances  and  differences  between 
Carlyle  and  Ruskin. 

n.  Read  Mrs.  Gaskell's  Cranford  and  describe  it,  having  in  mind  the  style, 
the  interest,  and  the  characters  of  the  story.  How  does  it  compare,  as  a  pic- 
ture of  country  life,  with  George  Eliot's  novels  ? 

12.  Read  Blackmore's  Lorna  Doone  and  describe  it  (as  in  the  question 
above).  What  are  the  romantic  elements  in  the  story?  How  does  it  compare 
with  Scott's  romances  in  style,  in  plot,  in  interest,  and  in  truthfulness  to  life  ? 


568 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


CHRONOLOGY 

Nineteenth  Century 


HISTORY 


LITERATURE 


1830.  William  IV 
1832.  Reform  Bill 


1837.  Victoria  (d.  1901) 


1844.  Morse's  Telegraph 
1846.  Repeal  of  Corn  Laws 


1854.  Crimean  War 
1857.  Indian  Mutiny 


1867.  Dominion   of   Canada  estab- 
lished 


1870.  Government    schools    estab- 
lished 

1880.  Gladstone  prime  minister 


1887,   Queen's  jubilee 
1901.  Edward  VII 


1825.  Macaulay's  Essay  on  Milton 

1826.  Mrs.  Browning's  early  poems 
1830.  Tennyson's    Poems,   Chiefly 

Lyrical 

1833.  Browning's  Pauline 
1833-1834.  Carlyle's  Sartor  Resartus 
1836-1865.   Dickens's  novels 
1837.  Carlyle's  French  Revolution 

1843.  Macaulay's  essays 

1843-1860.  Ruskin's  Modern  Painters 

1847-1859.  Thackeray's   important 

novels 

1847-1857.  Charlotte  Bronte's  novels 
1848-1861.  Macaulay's  History 
1853.  Kingsley's  Hypatia 

Mrs.  Gaskell's  Cranford 

1853-1855.  Matthew  Arnold's  poems 
1856.   Mrs.  Browning's  Aurora  Leigh 

1858-1876.  George  Eliot's  novels 
1859-1888.  Tennyson's  Idylls  of  the 

King 

1859.  Darwin's  Origin  of  Species 
1864.  Newman's  Apologia 

Tennyson's  Enoch  Arden 
1865-1888.  Arnold's  Essays  in  Criti- 


1868.  Browning's  Ring  and  the  Book 

1869.  Blackmore's  Lorna  Doone 

1879.  Meredith's  The  Egoist 

1883.  Stevenson's  Treasure  Island 
1885.  Ruskin's  Praeterita  begun 

1889.  Browning's  last  work,  Asolando 
1892.  Death  of  Tennyson 


CHAPTER  XII 
AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE 

What  of  the  faith  and  fire  within  us, 

Men  who  march  away  .  .  . 
To  hazards  whence  no  tears  can  win  us, 
What  of  the  faith  and  fire  within  us, 

Men  who  march  away  ? 

Hardy,  "  The  Song  of  the  Soldier" 

Before  the  World  War  wrought  its  change  on  the  spirits  of 
men,  fusing  the  will  and  feeling  of  millions  into  one  superb 
national  impulse,  life  seemed  very  complex  in  England,  and 
literature  was  busily  reflecting  its  complexity  rather  than  its 
unity,  its  surface  eddies  or  cross-currents  rather  than  its  deep 
underflow.  A  host  of  writers  held  up  each  some  problem  or 
interest  or  field  of  the  far-flung  empire,  and  their  collective 
work  now  makes  upon  the  reader  an  impression  of  hopeless 
confusion.  At  the  outset  of  our  study,  therefore,  let  these  three 
matters  be  clearly  understood  : 

First,  this  essay  is  not  in  any  sense  a  "  history  "  of  recent 
literature,  since  no  man  can  possibly  write  trie  history  of  his 
own  times.  The  best  we  can  do  is  to  select  a  few  representative 
writers,  to  the  exclusion  of  many  who  may  prove  of  equal  or 
greater  power.  The  general  plan  is  to  examine  the  work  of 
one  important  author  in  some  detail  (this  to  suggest  a  study 
method)  and  to  view  the  others  broadly  in  convenient  groups. 

Second,  the  standard  of  selection  is  not  the  opinion  of  any 
critic,  but  rather  a  consensus  of  readers'  opinions  whenever 
such  can  be  found.  If  you  object  that  a  selection  based  on 
fickle  popularity  can  have  little  value,  the  answer  is  that  until 
Time  has  its  way  with  books  popularity  and  personal  taste  are 
the  only  means  we  have  of  judging  them. 

569 


570  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Of  taste  and  its  vagaries  non  disputandum,  but  of  popularity 
something  may  still  be  said  —  enough,  at  least,  to  distinguish 
the  false  from  the  true.  There  are  many  so-called 
n  y  popular  books  which  are  superficial  or  clever  or 
funny  or  sentimental  or  sensational,  each  appealing  to  its  own 
class  of  readers,  and  with  such  books,  which  come  and  go  like 
summer  hats,  we  have  here  no  concern.  But  there  is  another 
kind  of  popularity  in  literature  that  goes  back  to  the  root-word 
"  people,"  which  means  men  and  women,  old  and  young,  wise 
and  ignorant.  To  be  popular  in  the  true  sense,  therefore,  a 
writer  must  show  some  elemental  human  quality  that  appeals  to 
folk  generally,  and  that  not  only  diverts  them  for  a  moment  but 
makes  them  think  and  remember  and  approve  or  disapprove. 

Such  popularity  indicates  power  of  some  kind.  It  may  be 
the  power  of  truth  or  falsehood,  of  a  genius  or  a  dancing  der- 
vish ;  but  the  writer  who  holds  the  attention  of  many  different 
people  is  not  common  ;  he  should  be  looked  at  twice.  If  he  is 
"  merely  popular,"  his  book  will  be  forgotten  on  the  appearance 
of  another,  as  Trilby  was  forgotten ;  but  if  he  wins  the  next 
generation  and  the  next,  he  is  on  the  Road  of  Few  Travelers 
which  leads  to  Parnassus.  Kipling  serves  us  well  as  an  illus- 
tration :  some  critics  call  him  a  great  writer,  others  a  show- 
man in  letters ;  but  all  agree  on  his  immense  and  fairly  won 
popularity. 

The  third  matter  to  be  emphasized  is  that  no  essay  of 
recent  literature  can  be  authoritative,  and  that  at  every  point 
the  reader,  no  less  than  the  writer,  is  free  to  follow  his  own 
judgment.  The  essayist,  examining  by  light  of  his  personal 
taste  a  few  works  which  are  popular  in  the  best  sense,  must 
try  to  be  temperate  with  what  he  likes  and  fair  with  what  he 
heartily  dislikes ;  but  if  he  wholly  succeeded  in  the  latter  aim, 
he  would  be  more  or  less  than  human.  The  reader,  on  the 
other  hand,  will  remember  that  Time  is  the  only  critic  who 
can  surely  tell  which  authors  have  the  quality  of  greatness. 
Meanwhile  the  best  means  of  anticipating  Time's  verdict  in 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE  5/1 

the  future  is  to  be  acquainted  with  what  Time  has  approved  in 
the  past.  In  other  words,  the  more  you  know  of  old  books  the 
more  likely  are  you  to  estimate  the  new  aright. 

This  does  not  mean  that  new  books  are  critically  to  be  re- 
garded as  of  small  consequence ;  for  many  of  them  are  excel- 
lent, well  worthy  of  study,  and  because  they  reflect  our  own  life 
and  thought  and  speech  they  come  to  us  with  a  familiar  appeal 
that  the  books  of  a  distant  age  can  never  quite  equal.  Each 
generation  likes  its  own  books  best.  Therein  is  perhaps  the 
danger,  that  the  lively  present  interest  of  recent  literature  may 
blind  us  to  its  serious  defects ;  hence  the  need  of  a  standard 
of  value,  which  only  the  old  and  tried  books  can  give  us. 

RUDYARD  KIPLING 

For  more  than  thirty  years,  or  ever  since  he  came  from 
India  with  his  Plain  Tales,  Kipling  has  been  the  most  famous 
writer  of  the  English-speaking  world.  Yet  he  cares  naught  for 
fame,  apparently,  and  affects  to  despise  or  to  patronize  the 
country  that  gives  him  the  truest  homage  and  the  greater  part 
of  his  readers,  to  say  nothing  of  his  daily  bread.  What  is  there 
in  the  author  or  his  message  to  account  for  this  phenomenon 
of  popularity  ?  One  cannot  explain  Kipling,  or  any  other  man 
for  that  matter,  but  a  glance  at  his  career  and  method  may 
help  us  understand  his  audience. 

His  life  began  in  Bombay,  in  1865.  As  a  child  he  was  sent 
to  England,  where  he  received  such  mingled  scraps  of  educa- 
tion and  barbarism  as  are  commonly  furnished  by  an 
English  school  for  boys.  (This  is  judging  the  matter 
as  Tennyson  and  twenty  other  English  writers  have  judged  it. 
If  any  evidence  is  needed,  Kipling  furnishes  it  in  Stalky  and 
Co.)  At  sixteen  or  thereabouts  he  went  back  to  India,  where 
he  "ate  the  bread  of  discontent"  as  reporter  for  a  small 
newspaper.  He  wrote  some  "  local "  poems  and  stories,  which 
attracted  the  attention  of  newspaper  readers;  he  published 


572  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

them  in  a  little  book,  and  suddenly  found  himself  on  the 
way  to  fame  and  fortune.  Then  he  traveled  widely  about  the 
English-speaking  world,  and  everywhere  on  land  or  sea  he  had 
the  reporter's  eye  for  the  odd,  the  new,  the  picturesque  incident 
which  would  be  certain  to  "  hit "  his  readers.  He  was  a  jour- 
nalist by  instinct,  and  even  now,  after  thirty  years  of  book- 
making,  the  newspaper  man  shows  in  his  slang,  his  "  pep,"  his 
up-to-the-minute  theme,  his  air  of  lofty  superiority,  as  if  indeed 
all  things  were  known  to  him.  But  he  is  much  more  than  a 
journalist ;  he  is  a  very  clever  craftsman  in  words,  and  few  can 
match  him  in  power  of  presenting  a  vivid  picture  to  the  eye  or 
creating  an  effect  of  fear  or  wonder  in  the  mind.  Thus  by  his 
choice  of  fresh  subjects  he  wins  an  audience,  and  by  his  good 
writing  he  holds  it. 

Two  other  matters,  of  style  and  philosophy,  should  be  noted 

in  explanation  of  Kipling's  popularity.    His  verse  goes  blithely, 

as  if  to  the  drums ;   his  prose  is  always  vigorous, 

His  Readers        .  '  j    ru 

picturesque,  and  manly  when  he  does  not  deliber- 
ately seek  an  effect  by  sheer  brutality.  His  philosophy  of  life 
(or  such  as  appears  in  his  writing)  is  very  simple  :  he  believes 
in  work,  and  this  with  heroism  constitutes  his  creed.  More- 
over, he  is  very  exclusive  in  his  notion  of  work,  which  makes 
it  easy  to  agree  with  him.  Soldier,  sailor,  explorer,  governor 
of  a  colony,  inventor  of  strange  machines,  —  such  only  are 
workers ;  while  thinkers,  teachers,  congressmen,  and  all  who 
must  get  up  at  the  whistle  are  weaklings,  oafs,  or  such  "  flan- 
neled  fools  "  as  are  held  up  to  scorn  in  "  The  Islanders."  By 
a  curious  whim  of  fate  most  of  these  useful  persons  are  wishing 
they  could  chuck  their  unromantic  jobs  and  go  off  exploring  or 
governing  a  colony ;  therefore  do  they  read  Kipling,  finding 
him  a  kindred  spirit  and  a  voice  of  their  souls'  desire. 

Kipling's  Verse.  As  a  type  of  popular  verse  consider  well 
"  The  Feet  of  the  Young  Men."  It  appeared  many  years 
ago,  celebrating  a  vague  youth  heading  off  into  a  vague  wilder- 
ness because  the  "  red  gods  "  were  calling  him ;  and  wherever 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE  573 

he  went  many  fell  in  behind  him,  as  if  he  were  the  pied  piper. 
Now  his  name  is  legion ;  those  who  write  for  the  sporting 
magazines,  or  go  big-game  hunting  or  tenting  in  the  wilds  or 
bass-fishing  in  the  creek,  are  all  devotees  of  the  red  gods. 
We  do  not  know  exactly  who  these  divinities  are,  or  how  they 
differ  from  the  green  gods,  which  are  more  abundant,  or  from 
the  pink  gods,  which  are  more  feminine.  In  other  words, 
Kipling's  affectation  of  a  campelling  "  something  lost  beyond 
the  ranges  "  was  poetic  humbug ;  but  it  was  a  very  catchy  hum- 
bug and  we  all  caught  it  —  yes,  and  are  glad  of  the  catching. 

Perhaps  the  lilt  of  Kipling's  verse  is  what  chiefly  recom- 
mends it.  There  is  martial  rhythm  in  his  lines  which  makes 
them  pleasant  to  the  ear,  aside  from  their  subject  or  meaning. 
Thus,  you  cannot  read  "The  Bell  Buoy"  without  feeling  the 
heave  of  the  unquiet  sea,  or  "Danny  Deever"  without  mentally 
hearing  the  dead  march  that  attends  a  soldier's  burial. 

Aside  from  this  attractive  rhythm,  it  is  often  difficult  to 
name  anything  of  value  in  Kipling's  songs,  most  of  which 
Typical  bear  the  same  relation  to  poetry  that  popular  "  rag- 
Poems  £jme  »  bears  to  music.  Of  the  early  Departmental 
Ditties  little  need  be  said,  except  perhaps  this  :  the  author 
might  better  have  put  them  in  the  fire  than  in  his  collected 
works.  Barrack- Room  Ballads  is  better  in  spots,  but  the 
"  Mandalay "  spots  are  far  between.  "  The  Ballad  of  East 
and  West "  (which  is  not  of  the  barracks)  is  a  stirring  tale  and 
the  best  of  its  kind.  Other  good  lines  are  found  scattered 
through  the  prose  works  and  in  "  occasional "  poems  such  as 
"The  Flag  of  England,"  "The  Truce  of  the  Bear"  (read 
this  in  connection  with  the  story  of  "  The  Man  Who  Was  "), 
the  famous  "  Recessional,"  and  "  For  All  We  Have  and  Are  " 
written  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Great  War  and  giving  the 
word  "  Hun  "  its  new  meaning.  Such  poems,  with  their  vigor- 
ous expression  of  national  feeling,  explain  why  many  regard 
Kipling  as  the  real  poet  laureate  of  England,  no  matter  who 
may  be  appointed  to  that  high  office. 


574  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Prose  Works.  Reading  the  exquisite  "  Without  Benefit  of 
Clergy  "  in  comparison  with  the  ruffianly  Stalky  and  Co.  or 
the  stale  and  unprofitable  A  Diversity  of  Creatures,  one  may 
agree  with  critics  who  say  that  Kipling's  early  prose  was  his 
best.  That  is  a  matter  of  opinion,  however,  and  the  reader 
may  be  more  interested  in  following  the  successive  stages  of 
Kipling's  work.  He  began  with  stories  of  Anglo-Indian  life, 
such  as  appear  in  Plain  Tales  front  the  Hills  and  Soldiers 
Three.  Then  in  England,  apparently  in  answer  to  those  who 
said  he  was  not  artist  enough  to  reflect  life  in  a  novel,  he 
wrote  The  Light  that  Failed.  Next  came  a  round-the-world 
stage,  reflected  in  several  volumes  of  short  stories,  such  as 
Many  Inventions,  and  another  of  absorption  in  engines  and 
technical  terms.  These  stages  overlap,  and  betweenwhiles 
appeared  Kim,  a  panorama  of  Indian  scenes,  Captains  Coura- 
geous, a  boys'  story  of  the  fishing  fleet,  and  that  delight  of  all 
children  young  or  old,  The  Jungle  Book. 

To  the  Anglo-Indian  stories  "The  Man  Who  Was"  or 
"  The  Tomb  of  his  Ancestors  "  will  serve  well  as  an  intro- 
Typicai  duction  ;  while  "  The  Incarnation  of  Krishna  Mul- 
stories  vaney  "  will  surely  make  you  want  to  know  more 
of  Soldiers  Three.  Mulvaney  is  considered  the  best  of  Kip- 
ling's characters ;  but  he  is  a  "  stage  Irishman  "  nevertheless, 
and  Ortheris  is  more  true  to  life.  One  of  the  finest  of  his 
tales  of  native  life  is  "The  Miracle  of  Purun  Bhagat,"  in  the 
second  Jungle  Book.  "  The  Ship  that  Found  Herself  "  and 
"  007  "  are  favorites  among  the  mechanical  stories ;  those  who 
know  how  boiler  plates  talk  will  like  them,  but  other  readers 
will  more  enjoy  "The  Bridge  Builders,"  which  is  a  better  tale. 

Kipling  is  at  his  best  when  he  writes  a  dream-story  that 
has  happily  no  pretense  of  reality.  "The  Brushwood  Boy,"  a 
beautiful  piece  of  imaginative  writing,  seems  to  have  more  ad- 
mirers than  any  other  of  his  short-stories.  Kim  is  not  so  much 
a  novel  as  a  kind  of  mirage  of  that  mysterious  land  which  we 
call  India.  There  are  those  who  regard  Kim  as  a  picture  drawn 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE  575 

from  life  by  one  who  knows ;  but  you  may  fill  your  head  with 
delusions  if  you  view  it  in  that  light.  Kipling  got  his  knowl- 
edge of  natives,  as  of  wolves  and  other  beasts,  chiefly  from  his 
imagination,  and  Kim  and  The  Jungle  Book  are  both  in  the 
same  class  of  excellent  fiction. 

The  animal  stories  suggest  a  curious  grouping  of  Kipling's 
characters  into  the  less  real,  the  more  real,  and  the  wholly 
The  real,  —  curious  because  reality  is  found  where  you 

jungle  Book  jeast  expect  it.  When  his  men  or  women  talk  we 
are  skeptical,  thinking  them  too  clever  to  be  natural ;  his 
machines  talk  a  little  more  humanly ;  but  not  till  his  animals 
talk  do  we  recognize  our  own  kind.  So  we  look  askance  at 
Mulvaney  or  Mrs.  Hauksbee  or  Cottar,  finding  one  stagy, 
another  artificial,  a  third  illusory  ;  but  we  welcome  Mowgli  and 
grumbling  old  Baloo  as  fellow  travelers  on  life's  highway. 
Such  characters,  original  and  fascinating,  are  here  to  stay.  Re- 
membering them  gratefully,  most  young  critics  from  seven  to 
seventy  acclaim  The  Jungle  Book,  the  Mowgli  stories  especially, 
as  the  most  enduring  of  Kipling's  works. 

SOME  MODERN  NOVELISTS 

Facing  the  fact  that  the  novel  now  dwarfs  all  other  forms 
of  literature,  the  student  will  ask,  Why  this  flood  of  fiction  ? 
The  answer  is,  People  want  it ;  which  is  precisely  the  answer 
an  Elizabethan  would  have  given  to  explain  his  flood  of  drama. 
In  1600  very  few  Englishmen  could  read;  for  amusement 
they  demanded  plays,  and  many  besides  Shakespeare  were 
ready  to  serve  them  at  a  price.  In  1900,  when  everybody 
reads,  people  want  stories,  and  a  plethora  of  novelists  is  the 
result.  In  this,  as  in  every  other  age,  the  prevailing  type  of 
literature  is  determined  not  by  writers  but  by  readers. 

The  Realists.  To  avoid  endless  debate  let  us  agree,  if  we 
can,  on  this  working  definition  :  the  realist  is  bound  to  portray 
life  as  he  sees  men  live  it;  while  the  maker  of  romance  is 


576  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

free  to  picture  life  as  men  dream  or  desire  it  to  be,  or  strive 
to  make  it,  the  larger  freedom  being  what  chiefly  distinguishes 
the  romantic  from  the  realistic  novel.  Both  deal  with  life,  one 
seeing  it  with  the  eye,  the  other  with  eye  and  imagination. 
There  are  faults  in  that  definition,  but  no  more  than  in  any 
other  you  may  formulate. 

Herbert  G.  Wells,  an  honest  novelist  who  takes  his  art  very 

seriously,   is  the   most  conspicuous  of  contemporary  realists. 

"We  are  going  to  write  about  the  whole  of  life," 

Wells 

he  announces.  "  We  are  going  to  deal  with  politi- 
cal questions  and  religious  questions  and  social  questions,  un- 
til a  thousand  pretenses  and  ten  thousand  impostures  shrivel 
in  the  cold  clear  air  of  our  elucidations." 

Questions  of  such  import,  with  eleven  thousand  complications 
to  bedevil  them,  might  make  even  Solomon  hold  his  tongue ; 
but  they  give  Wells  his  mission  and  his  instrument.  His  mis- 
sion is  to  reform ;  his  instrument  the  novel,  that  shall  go  forth 
like  a  knight  of  old  to  destroy  evil.  One  must  admire  his 
courage,  and  his  robust  faith  in  the  written  word.  He  sees 
more  shams  than  ever  Carlyle  counted ;  society,  religion,  busi- 
ness, —  everywhere  is  muddle  (his  favorite  word),  and  at  each 
new  muddle  he  hurls  a  book.  That,  and  not  mere  story-telling, 
is  the  prime  meaning  of  his  twenty  or  thirty  novels,  beginning 
with  pseudo-scientific  tales  modeled  on  Jules  Verne  or  More's 
Utopia  and  halting  for  the  moment  with  Joan  and  Peter, 
which  professes  to  picture  England  in  the  stress  of  the  Great 
War  but  is  really  a  tirade  against  modern  education. 

Like  other  reformers  Wells  has  his  strong  and  his  weak 
points ;  he  is  strong  on  sociology  and  science,  which  he  exalts 
to  a  god,  but  rather  weak  on  souls  and  human  nature.  Thus, 
in  Marriage  he  takes  his  hero  and  heroine  off  to  Labrador, 
there  to  live  in  a  hut  and  prove  how  beautifully  simple  life 
can  be ;  which  shows  that  he  has  great  delusions  about 
Labrador.  One  who  has  lived  on  that  bleak  coast  knows  that 
life  there  is  rather  more  complex  than  in  a  fashionable  hotel, 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE  577 

and  decidedly  less  comfortable.  Simplicity  is  not  learned  of 
science  or  cultivated  by  a  fish  diet ;  it  is  a  soul  quality  which 
shines  with  the  same  clear  light  in  every  corner  of  the  earth. 
And  complexity  is  not  the  result  of  town  life  or  capitalism  or 
any  other  modernity ;  it  is  due  solely  to  cross-purposes,  and 
there  may  be  as  much  of  it  between  two  persons  in  a  hut  as 
among  five  millions  in  London  city. 

In  sum,  most  of  the  deeper  meanings  of  life,  its  faith,  its 
courage,  its  laughter,  its  invincible  hope,  seem  largely  to  have 
escaped  this  realist's  observation.  He  is  so  bent  on  reforming 
the  evil  of  society  that  he  misses  nearly  all  the  good  in  it. 
As  a  type  of  his  early  wonder-stories  The  War  of  the  Worlds 
will  serve  as  well  as  another ;  of  his  later  fiction  Tono-Bungay 
or  The  New  Machiavelli  will  show  the  author's  zeal  for  knock- 
ing the  humbug  out  of  business  or  politics.  He  is  a  good  writer, 
vigorous  and  sincere,  but  in  his  work  one  is  very  apt  to  lose 
sight  of  the  story-teller  in  the  reformer.  An  exception  is  found 
in  The  Wheels  of  Chance,  a  pleasant  story  written  before  Wells 
turned  knight-errant  with  a  trenchant  pen  for  a  weapon. 

Joseph  Conrad  (English  for  Teodor  Jozef  Konrad  Korzeni- 

ofski)  is  unlike  any  other  recent  novelist,  which  may  account 

for  his  smaller  circle  of  readers.    We  shall  better 

Conrad 

appreciate  the  peculiar  quality  of  his  work  if  we 
view  it  in  the  light  of  his  personal  history.  He  is  Polish  by 
birth ;  his  life  began  in  the  Ukraine,  where  his  cultured  father 
and  mother  were  done  to  death  by  Russian  officials.  At  nine- 
teen, after  his  education  at  the  hands  of  a  French  tutor,  he 
learned  English,  followed  a  wandering  heart  to  sea,  and  for 
twenty  years  went  up  and  down  the  world  in  sailing  ships. 
In  all  that  time  he  never  met  one  of  his  countrymen  (the 
Poles  are  not  a  seafaring  folk),  and  the  solitude  of  exile 
and  the  vast  solitude  of  the  waters  entered  deep  into  his 
impressionable  Slavic  nature. 

Somewhere  Conrad  speaks  feelingly  of  "the  loneliness 
that  surrounds  every  human  soul  from  the  cradle  to  the 


578  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

grave,"  and  in  that  word  he  unconsciously  revealed  himself 
and  what  he  must  write.  Solitude,  the  mystery  of  fate,  and 
the  melancholy  that  attends  one  who  sees  life  as  solitude 
and  mystery,  —  such  is  the  theme  of  his  novels.  So  far  he 
is  like  Hawthorne ;  he  suggests  the  American  novelist  in  this 
also,  that  to  him  the  events  of  any  man's  life  are  measured 
by  their  moral  effect  on  the  man's  character. 

The  scene  of  his  story  is  always  in  keeping  with  his  somber 
and  fateful  theme.  Occasionally  he  locates  on  the  African  or 
American  coast,  but  more  often  on  some  lonely  South  Sea 
island,  where  every  sailor  who  makes  port  is  a  stranger  to 
every  other  and  where  the  undertone  of  the  sea  is  never 
stilled.  He  writes  well,  surprisingly  so  when  you  remember 
that  English  is  not  his  native  speech,  and  always  with  restrained 
power.  His  characters  seem  half  real  for  the  moment,  like 
other  strangers,  but  soon  fade  as  if  one  had  been  following 
a  daydream.  Presently  their  very  names  are  forgotten ;  only 
an  impression  remains,  as  of  mystery  made  visible.  To  read 
Chance  or  Victory  is  to  know  this  writer,  for  all  his  work  is 
in  the  same  vein.  Nostromo  is  perhaps  his  best  novel,  and 
Typhoon  is  especially  notable  for  its  word-pictures  of  the 
changing  but  ever-changeless  sea. 

John  Galsworthy  is  a  reformer,  like  Wells,  but  approaches 

his  victim  in  satiric  rather  than  in  hammer-and-tongs  fashion. 

He  is  master  of  a  good  style,  quiet,  assured,  uncon- 

Galsworthy          .  ,,  .          /~ii  •  ,..,. 

scious,  and  there  is  a  finely  dramatic  quality  in  his 
work  which  shows  in  the  dialogue  and  in  the  arrangement  of 
chapters,  each  being  finished  like  a  scene  from  a  drama. 
In  his  typical  story  two  orders  of  society  appear  in  contrast : 
an  aristocratic  class,  dull,  self-satisfied,  opposed  to  change ; 
and  a  lower  class  of  radicals,  brainy  and  restless,  who  are  bent 
on  reforming  things.  Among  his  best  works  are  The  Man 
of  Property,  The  Patrician,  and  The  Country  House.  In  his 
latest  novels  he  falls  sadly  away,  and  tells  an  unpleasant  story 
that  serves  no  artistic  or  useful  end. 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE  579 

Excepting  only  Conrad,  the  realists  deal  largely  with  the 
"  muddle  "  of  family  life,  and  if  one  believed  their  report 
the  English  must  be  in  a  parlous  state.  Such 
atrocious  parents  and  rebellious  children  make  one 
wonder  whether  no  nice  homes  are  left  in  England,  —  such 
lovely  homes  as  one  has  entered  and  must  ever  gratefully 
remember.  And  if  they  still  exist,  why  in  the  name  of  Colum- 
bus do  not  the  realists  discover  them  ?  Our  amazement  is  in- 
creased in  reading  Samuel  Butler  (not  the  author  of  Hudibras, 
but  a  later  Butler  of  growing  fame),  who  regards  the  family 
as  a  modern  Juggernaut  and  cries  out  for  a  law  that  shall 
divorce  all  children  from  their  unworthy  parents. 

Here  again  some  personal  experience  —  some  parental 
restraint  or  Sunday  compulsion  which  bred  a  hatred  of  family 
and  church  —  seems  to  color  all  the  author's  work.  It  is  said 
that  he  rejoiced  when  his  father  died,  leaving  him  money  and 
unrestrained  liberty,  the  two  only  things  which  he  considered 
essential  to  human  welfare.  His  chief  work,  The  Way  of  All 
Flesh,  carries  a  tale  through  three  generations,  each  proving 
anew  the  necessity  of  divorcing  children  from  their  elders, 
It  is  a  powerful  work,  artistically  the  best  realistic  novel  that 
has  lately  appeared,  with  a  saturnine  humor  and  an  air  of  dis- 
interested fairness  that  make  it  both  readable  and  plausible. 
Butler  thought  much  but  published  very  little,  and,  as  his 
Note-Books  indicate,  was  the  most  careful  craftsman  among" 
recent  novelists  ;  but  again  one  must  ask,  Did  he  find  no 
worthy  mothers  and  no  happy  children  in  all  England  that  he 
should  turn  devil's  advocate  in  his  portrayal  of  family  life  ? 

Two  other  realists,  Eden  Phillpotts  and  Arnold  Bennett,  are 
somewhat  alike  in  that  both  are  swamped  by  their  "  materials  "  ; 
endless  pages  with  mere  things  rather  than 


Phiii 

human  action,  assuming  that  if  they  minutely  de- 

scribe a  woman's  dress,  her  house,  her  furniture,  and  all  her 
relatives  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation,  they  have  somehow 
created  a  real  character.  Phillpotts  has  produced  a  staggering 


580  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

number  of  novels  dealing  with  all  matters  of  possible  interest 

in  the  South  of  England.    Wide  combe  Fair  (in  which  a  village 

appears  as  a  character)  is  his  brightest  work.     The  Thief  of 

Viriite  and  The  Three  Brothers  are  considered  his  best  novels. 

Arnold  Bennett  finds  his  "  material "  in  the  alleged  Five 

Towns  of  a  pottery  district.    His  American  readers,  and  they 

are  many,  are  in  two  groups  :  one  finds  a  novel  very 

Bennett  .  ...  ,  ,  ,      ,-, 

clever,  or  possibly  good,  and  recommends  Bennett 
to  a  friend  ;  the  friend  goes  to  the  library,  takes  out  a  different 
novel,  finds  frothy  conceits  without  human  interest  or  literary 
virtue,  and  wonders  why  anyone  should  waste  an  hour  over  such 
truck.  This  curious  difference,  which  involves  more  than  per- 
sonal taste,  may  possibly  be  explained  by  the  novelist's  way  of 
work.  He  began,  as  journalist  for  a  woman's  periodical,  to 
write  trashy  fiction  for  the  frank  purpose  of  making  money. 
When  he  failed  of  his  purpose,  his  seven  or  eight  novels  finding 
few  readers  in  England  and  no  recognition  in  America,  he  gave 
time  and  thought  and  some  conscience  to  The  Old  Wives  Tale, 
making  a  novel  to  please  himself,  it  is  said.  A  multitude  of 
American  readers  greeted  this  book,  as  it  deserved  ;  whereupon 
the  author  followed  his  market  while  the  following  was  good, 
hastily  writing  more  novels  and  republishing  his  early  trash  in 
America  as  "  new  editions  "  of  date  subsequent  to  that  of  The 
Old  Wives'  Tale  (1908),  giving  readers  here  the  impression 
that  they  were  new  works.  So  the  matter  is  explained  by 
Professor  Phelps.  To  judge  it  fairly  you  must  remember  that 
modern  literature  has  its  commercial  side  (the  only  side  that 
appeals  to  some  publishers  of  fiction)  and  that  many  authors 
now  write  to  make  a  living. 

The  Old  Wives'  Tale,  relating  the  tragic  life-story  of  two 
sisters,  is  Bennett's  best  novel,  and  it  makes  one  wish  he  had 
written  fewer  books  with  more  sincerity.  A  second  choice  is 
the  humorous  Denry  the  Audacious  (published  in  England  as 
The  Card,  1911),  and  with  any  third,  such  as  Helen  of  the 
High  Hand,  you  approach  the  trashy  borderland. 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE  581 

An  older  and  more  earnest  novelist  is  Mrs.  Humphry  Ward, 
famous  ever  since  her  Robert  Elsmere  was  trumpeted  by  Glad- 
stone and  read  by  almost  everybody  else.  One  who 
now  yawns  over  that  quasi-religious  story  must 
wonder  at  the  literary  commotion  which  it  occasioned.  Yet 
remember  its  day  and  generation.  Appearing  at  a  time  when 
religion  was  supposed  to  be  shaken  by  the  discoveries  of  science, 
it  appealed  to  that  multitude  of  readers  who  are  interested  in 
any  serious  treatment  of  a  religious  question.  And  Mrs.  Ward 
is  always  serious ;  well  informed  also,  and  up  to  date.  She  is 
an  intellectual  by  inheritance,  belonging  to  the  Arnold  family 
renowned  in  English  life  and  letters. 

Her  later  novels,  Marcella,  The  Marriage  of  William  Ashe, 
Lady  Roses  Daughter  and  the  rest,  are  all  alike,  —  conscien- 
tious, well  written,  of  high  purpose,  but  without  genius  or  humor 
or  even  a  frivolous  feminine  touch  to  give  them  charm.  She 
deals  exclusively  with  the  "  best  "  society,  introducing  you  to 
brilliant  statesmen,  modest  geniuses,  beautiful  and  clever  young 
women,  and  other  desirables  whom  you  expect  to  meet,  and 
don't,  when  you  pass  the  portal  of  society.  That  is  perhaps  the 
secret  of  Mrs.  Ward's  popularity :  she  takes  you  into  the  "  up- 
per circles  "  and  flatters  your  delusion  that  they  are  any  more 
brainy  or  happy  than  your  own.  Her  best  and  least  popular 
novel  is  David  Grieve,  in  the  vein  of  Robert  Elsmere  but 
showing  more  ability  to  draw  a  human  character  humanly ;  that 
is,  without  putting  him  on  intellectual  stilts. 

The  Modern  Romance.  After  reading  a  score  of  reformatory 
novels  with  their  overwrought  problems  and  woolly  socialistic 
theories,  one  wearies  for  a  good  story  and  asks,  Are  there  in 
recent  fiction  no  pleasant  books  of  life  or  love  or  nonsense 
"  for  happy  folk  in  housen  "  ?  Yes,  plenty.  Locke  has  one  to 
keep  you  mentally  smiling,  and  De  Morgan  one  to  evoke  smiles 
and  tears  at  the  same  time  —  a  rare  experience,  almost  forgotten 
since  Dickens  used  to  compound  his  stories  of  pathos  and 
irrepressible  humor. 


582  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

William  J.  Locke  is  an  architect,  officer  of  some  ponderous 
Royal  British  Institute,  who  writes  for  relaxation.  His  philoso- 
phy is  that  every  person  past  the  wonderland  of 
childhood  has  two  natures,  one  of  everyday  habit, 
the  other  of  primitive  stuff  which  runs  to  dreams,  emotions, 
new  sensations.  Work  satisfies  the  former  man,  literature  the 
latter ;  therefore  does  Locke  work  by  day  and  write  novels  by 
night  —  a  happy  fashion,  which  Raleigh  and  other  Elizabethans 
cherished.  Septimus  is  his  brightest  work  of  fancy,  and  The 
Beloved  Vagabond  is  by  many  considered  his  masterpiece. 
The  latter,  a  readable  story  dealing  with  the  adventures  of  a 
foot-loose  fiddler,  is  bohemian  and  rather  pagan  in  spirit.  After 
reading  it  one  may  want  to  know  the  author's  deeper  view  of 
life,  which  appears  in  The  Three  Wise  Men. 

William  Frend  De  Morgan  was  first  an  artist,  then  a  designer 
and  maker  of  pottery,  and  not  till  he  was  past  sixty  did  he 
begin  to  write  fiction.  His  first  novel,  Joseph  Vance t 
appeared  in  1906  and  took  two  countries  by  storm. 
Almost  everyone  who  read  the  story  thought  of  Dickens ;  but 
De  Morgan  is  always  himself,  not  an  echo  of  somebody  else ; 
he  only  suggests  Dickens  in  his  hearty  love  of  life  and  in  his 
literary  method,  which  is  to  plunge  into  the  middle  of  a  story 
trusting  heaven  and  human  nature  to  bring  him  to  a  good  end. 
Also  he  commonly  begins  with  unpromising  characters  of  the 
slums,  and  tells  a  tale  of  "  the  spark  in  the  clod  "  turning  to 
pure  flame  and  burning  away  all  dross.  His  two  best  novels 
are  Alice-for-Short  m\&  Joseph  Vance,  one  dealing  with  a  girl, 
the  other  with  a  boy,  both  of  the  street  but  on  their  upward 
way  to  womanhood  or  manhood.  They  are  rarely  good  novels, 
but  haphazard  and  not  everywhere  easy  to  read. 

James  M.  Barrie  was  the  most  popular  of  recent  romancers 

till  he  wrote  Peter  Pan,  which  made  him  the  most  popular  of 

playwrights.    He  began  in  A   Window  in   Thrums 

and  Auld Licht  Idylls  to  portray  the  life  of  a  Scottish 

village,  —  a  drear  life  at  best,  with  here  and  there  a  glint  of 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE  583 

humor  or  pathos  or  sentiment  to  light  up  its  dullness.  Soon 
his  emotionalism  ran  away  with  him ;  his  readers  liked  it,  and 
he  harped  on  it  more,  and  more  artificially,  till  honest  human 
sentiment  degenerated  into  sentimentality,  as  in  The  Little 
Minister.  Then  it  was  that  Stevenson  wrote  to  a  friend, 
"  There  's  genius  in  Barrie,  but  there 's  a  journalist  at  his 
elbow  —  there's  the  risk." 

Thereafter  Barrie  showed  the  journalist  by  playing  on  his 
readers'  feelings,  and  there  is  a  negative  quality  in  his  work,  a 
lack  of  candor  or  proper  manliness,  which  is  hard  to  define  but 
harder  still  to  escape.  His  Margaret  Ogilvy  may  or  may  not 
be  an  exception ;  it  is  a  semi-biography  of  his  mother  and  is 
all  sentiment,  rare  and  delicate,  which  you  read  with  pleasure 
until  you  begin  to  question  an  author's  taste  in  selling  a 
mother's  confidence  to  the  public.  His  Sentimental  Tommy, 
the  story  of  a  detestable  boy,  is  considered  his  masterpiece ; 
but  many  readers  find  the  teary  Tommy  a  sentimental  bore. 
As  if  to  emphasize  the  moral  of  this  book  Barrie  followed  it 
with  Tommy  and  Grizel,  in  which  the  selfish  hero  came  to  a 
bad  end.  As  a  little  girl  said,  "  First  he  wrote  a  story,  and 
then  he  wrote  a  squeal  to  it."  Like  every  other  sequel  to  a 
masterpiece,  Tommy  and  Grizel  is  a  disappointment ;  which 
makes  one  wonder  why  authors  continue  to  write  them.  Barrie 
is  at  his  best  in  charming  plays,  such  as  Peter  Pan,  or  in 
frolicsome  adventure-stories  such  as  The  Little  White  Bird, 
in  which  he  makes  no  attempt  to  draw  character  but  gives  free 
rein  to  his  elfish  fancy. 

There  are  scores  more  of  realistic  and  romantic  novels,  alto- 
gether too  many  to  be  summarized.  For  those  who  like  adven- 
ture there  is  Rider  Haggard,  with  his  King  Solomon  s  Mines 
and  a  dozen  other  gloriously  impossible  romances  of  Africa; 
readers  of  detective  stories  will  find  just  what  they  like  in  the 
Sherlock  Holmes  series  of  Arthur  Conan  Doyle ;  and  because 
everybody  likes  a  good  dog  everybody  will  want  to  read  the 
best  of  dog  stories  in  Ollivant's  Bob,  Son  of  Battle.  Hudson's 


584  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Green  Mansions  and  other  tales  of  the  tropical  forest ;  Anthony 
Hope,  May  Sinclair,  Mary  Willcocks  (before  she  went  wrong 
on  woman's  rights),  Quiller-Couch,  Maurice  Hewlett,  W.  B. 
Maxwell,  Leonard  Merrick,  —  these  are  a  few  names  which 
serve  as  signboards  to  the  pleasant  or  rocky  roads  of  recent 
fiction. 

THE  POETS 

By  some  whim  of  human  psychology,  or  it  may  be  of  human 
love,  most  of  us  regard  poetry  as  a  mother  regards  her  grown- 
up boy :  he  may  be  exploring  Alaska  or  fighting  in  France, 
but  always  in  her  thought  he  remains  a  child  who  must  be 
mothered  from  the  cold  and  the  rain.  Even  so  does  poetry, 
old  and  rugged  as  the  hills,  reappear  in  our  memory  as  a  frail, 
tender,  youthful  thing  unfit  for  the  rough  and  busy  ways  of 
men.  So  we  expect  the  language  of  poetry  to  be  that  of  the 
nursery  or  the  moonlight  or  the  lover's  plea,  while  prose  is 
reserved  for  greater  or  sterner  matters. 

Now,  though  a  few  singers  have  died  young,  the  world's 
poets  are  mostly  strong  men ;  they  write  of  things  natural  or 
things  human  in  the  simplest  way,  and  their  verse  is  more 
concise  and  more  powerful  than  any  prose.  Poetry  is  the  ele- 
mental speech  of  humanity  in  moments  of  noble  thought  or 
deep  feeling,  and  because  it  contains  nothing  artificial  or  super- 
fluous it  is  easily  memorized.  Therefore  did  the  earliest  histo- 
rians write  only  ballads  of  brave  deeds  ;  and  even  in  this  prosaic 
age,  if  you  think  a  strong  thought  or  a  wise  thought  and  want 
it  to  be  remembered,  you  must  give  it  poetic  expression. 

This  little  homily  is  based  upon  the  work  of  recent  English 
poets.  There  are  many  of  them,  more  than  in  any  other 
age ;  they  deal  with  the  big  things  or  the  deep  things  of  life, 
and  deal  with  them  honestly,  in  man-fashion.  The  one  quality 
which  they  have  in  common  is  their  sincerity,  their  purpose 
to  keep  poetry  near  to  common  men,  where  it  originated  and 
where  it  ever  belongs. 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE  585 

Poetry  of  Everyday  Life.  John  Masefield,  most  rugged  of 
recent  poets,  is  a  veritable  saga-man  who  would  have  been  at 
home  in  the  viking  ship  of  Eric  the  Red,  but  who  appears 
now  in  a  tame  or  conventional  age  to  sing  the  seamy  side  of 
civilization.  As  a  boy  he  ran  away  to  sea,  and  knocked  about 
the  rough  fringes  of  earth  for  many  seasons.  One  night,  it  is 
said,  he  found  a  copy  of  Chaucer,  sat  up  with  it  till  the  stars 
paled,  and  went  forth  in  the  morning  knowing  what  his  calling 
was.  Of  all  great  poets  Chaucer  is  perhaps  the  most  sensible, 
the  most  human,  the  most  "modern,"  and  Masefield  is  his 
disciple.  If  you  read  the  simple  opening  of  the  Nun's  Priest's 
story  of  Chanticleer  (in  the  Canterbury  Tales]  and  the  power- 
fully compressed  beginning  of  Masefield 's  Widow  in  the  Bye 
Street,  you  will  see  the  master  honored  in  his  pupil. 

Practically  all  Masefield's  narrative  poems  deal  with  common 
men  or  women,  as  his  lyrics  deal  with  the  ordinary  things  of 
sea  or  land.  Chaucer  was  great  enough  to  include  all  types 
of  humanity  in  his  sympathy,  but  Masefield  knows  no  gallant 
knights  or  dainty  Madame  Eglentynes ;  his  range  is  narrowed 
to  working  folk ;  he  has  no  romantic  heroes  but  only  such  half- 
failures  as  you  meet  any  day  at  the  dock  or  in  the  street : 

The  sailor,  the  stoker  of  steamers,  the  man  with  a  clout, 

The  chanteyman  bent  at  the  halliards,  putting  a  tune  to  the  shout, 

The  drowsy  man  at  the  wheel  and  the  tired  lookout,  .  .  . 

Of  these  shall  my  song  be  fashioned,  my  story  be  told. 

Of  the  longer  narratives  Dauber,  recounting  the  experience 
of  a  poor  artist  who  shipped  before  the  mast  and  was  done 
Masefield's  to  death  by  heartless  seamen,  is  commonly  recom- 
Poems  mended  by  critics.  It  has  some  memorable  lines  of 

the  ship  and  the  ocean  in  storm  or  calm ;  but  the  tale  is  too 
harsh  and  the  sailors  too  horribly  brutal  to  be  interesting.  Two 
better  narratives  are  The  Widow  in  the  Bye  Street  and  The 
Everlasting  Mercy.  These  are  the  author's  favorites,  and  by 
them  he  would  be  judged  as  a  poet ;  but  avoid  them  if  you 
are  looking  for  merely  pleasant  reading.  They  are  mostly 


586  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

scenes  of  human  poverty  or  degradation,  powerfully  drawn 
against  a  background  of  nature.  The  lyrics  are  too  many  for 
brief  review.  They  abound  in  strong  or  beautiful  lines ;  but 
they  clearly  indicate  that  Masefield  writes  too  much  and  too 
rapidly  for  the  best  results.  Among  the  volumes  that  one  may 
profitably  dip  into  are  Good  Friday,  Philip  the  King,  and  Salt- 
Water  Ballads  and  Lyrics. 

Very  different  from  Masefield  is  Alfred  Noyes,  a  poet  of 

cheerful  mood  who  lives  and  works  on  the  sunny  side  of  the 

road.    He  is  one  of  the  most  melodious  of  present- 

Noyes  ,  .  .   ^        -  - 

day  singers,  using  a  great  variety  of  verse  forms  very 
skillfully,  and  though  he  rarely  produces  anything  of  striking 
power  or  beauty  his  verse  is  always  musical  and  good  to  read. 
As  an  indication  of  his  wide  variety  of  pleasant  subjects  we 
need  quote  only  his  titles  :  The  Forest  of  Wild  Thyme,  with  its 
Alice-in- Wonderland  spirit ;  Fifty  Singing  Seamen,  with  some 
excellent  lyrics ;  The  Barrel  Organ,  a  rollicking  song  of  the 
street,  into  which  blows  a  breath  of  spring  to  make  men  glad ; 
Drake,  an  epic  of  the  Elizabethan  seaman ;  Sherwood,  a  dra- 
matic poem  of  the  days  of  Robin  Hood,  with  a  rare  fool  or 
jester  called  Shadow-of-a-Leaf ;  and  several  others  as  different 
as  The  Flower  of  Old  Japan  and  Tales  of  the  Mermaid 
Tavern. 

The  Symbolists.  We  give  this  poor  name  to  a  group  of 
.poets,  late  followers  of  Spenser  and  Rossetti,  who  represent 
life  or  beauty  by  a  road  or  flower  or  some  other  symbol,  which 
is  like  a  flag  in  that  it  speaks  more  than  words.  Coventry 
Patmore  seems  to  have  been  the  leader  of  this  group.  His 
simplest  work,  The  Angel  in  the.  House,  a  placid  narrative  of 
life  and  love,  was  once  widely  read.  It  is  still  a  good  test,  not 
of  the  poet  but  of  the  reader,  who  may  quickly  learn  from  it 
whether  or  not  Patmore  is  to  be  followed  into  other  fields.  But 
if  you  care  not  much  for  The  Angel,  be  not  discouraged ;  try 
another  poet.  There  is  as  much  latitude  of  taste  in  poetry  as 
in  food  or  romance. 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE 


587 


Francis  Thompson  is  in  spirit  a  follower  of  those  Puritan 
symbolists  whom  Dr.  Johnson  called  the  metaphysical  poets, 
because  he  did  not  like  or  understand  them.  He 
wrote  many  fine  religious  poems  which  have  a  double 
suggestion  of  the  rugged  power  of  Donne  and  the  heavenly 
grace  of  George  Herbert.  "  The  Hound  of  Heaven  "  is  not 
his  best  but  only  his  most  famous  poem ;  and  this  also  is  a 
test  of  the  reader's  taste.  The  symbolism  is  a  little  unfortu- 
nate, the  ff  hound  "  being  the  divine  love  which  follows  a  man 
wherever  he  may  wander,  as  the  Spirit  followed  the  Psalmist 
in  one  of  the  most  beautiful  poems  in  any  language,  beginning, 
"  O  Lord,  thou  hast  searched  me  and  known  me."  The  sym- 
bol of  the  brute  may  be  less  distasteful  if  you  remember  the 
noble  dogs  of  St.  Bernard,  which  go  forth  in  the  winter  storm 
to  find  and  save  the  perishing. 

Stephen  Phillips  is  the  most  widely  known  of  recent  symbol- 
ists. He  had  the  same  passionate  love  of  beauty  that  animated 
Keats,  and  like  Keats  he  died  young,  apparently  at 
the  beginning  of  a  great  career.  In  his  first  little 
volume,  Poems  (1897),  turn  to  "  Marpessa,"  one  of  his  finest 
works,  and  read  the  lines  of  Idas  to  the  maid : 

Thou  meanest  what  the  sea  has  striven  to  say 
So  long,  and  yearned  up  the  cliffs  to  tell ; 
Thou  art  what  all  the  winds  have  uttered  not, 
What  the  still  night  suggesteth  to  the  heart.  .  .  . 
Thy  face  remembered  is  from  other  worlds, 
It  has  been  died  for,  though  I  know  not  when, 
It  has  been  sung  of,  though  I  know  not  where. 

If  such  symbolic  lines  appeal  to  your  sense  of  beauty,  there 
are  plenty  more  like  them,  both  in  the  early  volume  and  in 
New  Poems  (1907).  Phillips  soon  turned  to  drama  and  wrote 
Herod  and  Paolo  and  Francesca  for  the  stage ;  but  these, 
though  they  met  with  favor  not  often  accorded  a  poet's  play 
in  recent  times,  are  more  notable  for  their  poetic  lines  than 
for  their  dramatic  or  "acting"  quality. 


Phillips 


588  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

The  Celtic  Revival.  Of  late  years  certain  poets  and  drama- 
tists of  Irish  birth  or  sympathy  have  been  calling  attention  to 
the  old  Erin  of  song  and  romance.  Their  work  is  supposed  to 
be  a  renaissance  of  Celtic  literature,  and  occasionally  is ;  but 
more  often  it  is  a  modern  version  of  that  ideal  beauty  which 
Spenser  located  in  the  Land  of  Faery,  and  which  now  finds  a 
local  habitation  and  a  name  in  Ireland. 

William  Butler  Yeats  is  the  leading  poet  of  this  busy  group, 
who  have  already  established  a  national  theater  in  Dublin,  and 
who  are  even  trying  to  revive  the  ancient  Irish 
language.  In  his  poetry  and  drama  he  thinks  of 
himself  as  a  reviver  of  old  symbols,  and  writes  in  prose  a 
theory  of  his  art;  but — "  a  rose  by  any  other  name  would  smell 
as  sweet."  He  is  first  and  last  a  lover  of  beauty,  which  knows 
no  age,  no  death,  no  revival,  being  forever  young  as  the  morn- 
ing ;  and  so  long  as  he  writes  of  beauty  his  English  readers 
care  little  for  his  theory.  There  is  a  rare  purity  and  simplicity 
in  his  work,  which  bespeak  a  child's  heart ;  so  he  can  write  of 
one  whom  he  loves,  and  before  whom  he  would  spread  a  cloth 
of  gold  or  stars,  as  Raleigh  spread  his  cloak  before  the  Queen  : 

But  I,  being  poor,  have  only  my  dreams ; 
I  have  spread  my  dreams  under  your  feet. 

Yeats's  poetic  titles,  The  Wind  among  the  Reeds,  In  the  Seven 
Woods,  Shadowy  Waters,  The  Land  of  Heart's  Desire  (the  last 
two  being  dramas),  are  as  inviting  as  an  open  door.  Enter 
freely  into  any  of  his  little  volumes,  for  there  is  no  best  where 
all  is  simple  and  good.  But  if  you  must  have  direction,  skip  at 
first  The  Wanderings  of  Oisin  and  other  revivals  of  long-dead 
heroes,  and  begin  with  a  collection  of  ballads  and  lyrics. 

Other  glimpses  of  the  Celtic  "  renaissance  "  may  be  had  in 
the  plays  of  Lady  Gregory  and  John  Millington  Synge  (try 
his  Riders  to  the  Sea],  in  the  poems  of  Padraic  Colum  and 
George  W.  Russell,  and  in  the  happy  short  stories  of  Seumas 
Mac  Manus  collected  in  Through  the  Turf  Smoke. 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE  589 

BOOKS  OF  MANY  KINDS 

In  contrast  with  the  Victorian  age  the  present  is  extraordina- 
rily interested  in  plays  of  every  kind.  Aside  from  professional 
playwrights,  who  are  many  and  well  rewarded,  most  of  the 
poets  and  novelists  we  have  just  met  have  turned  their  hand 
to  drama,  and  no  sooner  does  a  novel  appeal  to  the  public 
than  the  author  or  somebody  else  quickly  makes  it  over  for 
the  stage. 

To  summarize  these  plays  in  a  chapter  of  literature  is  inad- 
visable for  various  reasons  :  they  are  hopelessly  abundant ;  with 
rare  exceptions  they  are  ephemeral  in  character; 
and  finally,  their  essential  dramatic  quality  demands 
that  one  who  would  criticize  them  must  view  them  on  the 
stage,  not  in  the  cold  pages  of  a  book.  They  need  actors, 
light,  scenery,  —  all  the  illusion  of  the  theater,  if  they  are  to 
be  fairly  judged.  To  take  them  out  of  their  proper  setting  is 
to  examine  a  diamond  in  the  dusk.  Arthur  Wing  Pinero  is  an 
excellent  illustration ;  he  has  made  some  forty  plays,  light  or 
serious,  and  seldom  a  poor  work  among  them ;  but  they  are 
not  read ;  their  very  names  are  forgotten  save  by  a  few  old 
theatergoers  and  a  few  young  playwrights  who  study  them  as 
models ;  so  why  should  we  coldly  consider  them  as  literature  ? 

In  a  different  and  purely  literary  class  are  the  essays ;  but 

here  again  we  are  bewildered  by  the  number  of  writers  who 

reflect  every  interest  of  modern  life,  its  business, 

politics,  religion  and   science  no  less  than  its  fun 

and  nonsense,  in  a  flood  of  magazine  articles  that  for  force 

and  brilliancy  have  rarely  been  surpassed.     From  the  multitude 

we  select  only  three  as  typical ;  but  the  student  will  remember 

that  this  particular  selection   is  wholly  a  matter  of  personal 

taste,  and  that  happily  tastes  differ. 

Of  works  dealing  with  literature  and  criticism  A  Bookman  s 
Letters  by  W.  Robertson  Nicoll  (who  appears  as  "  Claudius 
Clear "  in  The  British  Weekly]  is  one  of  the  pleasantest.  It 


590  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

is  a  book  of  wide  range  and  wide  sympathy,  dealing  gener- 
ously with  modern  literature,  —  a  wise,  helpful,  kindly  book, 
kind  to  the  author  under  discussion  and,  above  all,  kind  to  the 
reader.  In  the  ethical  and  religious  fields  there  are  few  essays 
to  compare  with  those  of  J.  Brierley  (the  modest  "J.  B."  of 
the  periodicals),  which  are  collected  in  Ourselves  and  the  Uni- 
verse and  three  or  four  similar  volumes  characterized  by  deep 
thought,  lucid  expression  and  a  very  wide  range  of  literary 
allusion.  And  for  a  criticism  of  literature  and  life  there  are 
the  numerous  books  of  Chesterton  ("G.  K.  C.,"  not  Cecil 
Chesterton),  a  bluff,  fat,  hearty  man  of  Falstaffian  wit  and 
logic.  He  is  a  master  of  paradox,  of  topsy-turvy  observation ; 
and  he  has  a  genius  for  presenting  any  old  subject  under  the 
sun,  or  any  new  fad  or  fashion,  in  a  way  nobody  ever  happened 
to  think  of  before.  Moreover,  under  his  most  extravagant 
whim  or  paradox  there  is  always  thought  and  life,  a  downright 
hatred  of  sham  and  a  genuine  love  of  humanity. 

Books  of  the  War.  Three  things  of  literary  interest  have 
already  emerged  from  the  World  War.  The  first  is  the  mar- 
velous spirit  of  England.  Masefield  voiced  it  for  us,  simply 
and  manfully,  in  one  of  his  addresses  to  an  American  audience 
("  St.  George  and  the  Dragon,"  in  The  War  and  the  Future \ 
1918).  Never  before,  not  even  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth,  were 
Englishmen  so  brave,  so  strong,  so  united ;  and  with  England 
went  heart  and  soul  the  mighty  English-speaking  world.  This 
glorious  national  spirit,  fusing  men  to  unity  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing, must  again  have  a  tremendous  influence  on  English  litera- 
ture. The  coming  days  shall  see  it ;  the  flood  of  books  has 
already  begun,  and  in  them,  unless  all  signs  fail,  shall  be  some- 
thing of  fire  and  faith  that  no  English  books  ever  had  before. 

The  second  phenomenon  is  the  return  of  old  writers  with  a 
new  song  or  tale  on  their  lips,  and  the  appearance  of  new  poets 
Writers  m  whom  the  fierce  light  of  war  has  revealed  a  hid- 
oidandNew  den  talent.  A  few  popular  authors  have  used  the 
war  unworthily,  in  a  catchpenny  spirit ;  but  they  are  exceptions, 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE  591 

arid  we  shall  not  name  them.  The  aged  Thomas  Hardy  comes 
out  of  his  twilight  brooding  with  his  "  Song  of  the  Soldier," 
which  has  all  the  vigor  of  his  vanished  youth ;  and  Wells  for- 
gets his  everlasting  reform  to  show,  in  Mr.  Britling  Sees  It 
Through,  a  cross  section  of  English  life  as  the  war  discovers 
it.  (Too  bad  he  was  not  content  with  that,  but  must  at  the  end 
tinker  up  a  reformed  god  to  supplant  his  helpless  science!) 
William  Watson  the  poet,  who  as  a  lover  of  peace  used  to  be 
recommended  to  us  as  an  antidote  to  Kipling's  jingoism,  comes 
out  bravely  with  The  Man  Who  Saw  in  the  old  martial  spirit 
of  his  forebears.  Masefield  leaves  his  poetry  to  haunt  the 
trenches  ;  in  vivid  prose  he  writes  Gallipoli  and  The  Old  Front 
Line,  one  dealing  with  the  Dardanelles  expedition,  the  other 
with  the  Battle  of  the  Somme,  each  a  splendid  story  of 
heroism  splendidly  told. 

Besides  these  familiar  writers  (we  have  mentioned  but  a  few 
of  those  who  reflect  the  national  feeling)  a  number  of  unlooked- 
for  poets  appeared  in  both  England  and  America,  in  Canada 
and  Australia  also,  and  poetry  resumed  its  old  function  of 
speaking  more  urgently  and  more  truly  than  is  possible  in  prose. 
The  general  quality  of  their  work  is  surprisingly  good,  as  you 
may  judge  from  any  one  of  a  dozen  volumes  of  war  songs ; 
and  the  strange  thing  is,  that  of  scores  of  names  attached  to 
this  poetry  rarely  is  there  one  that  was  before  known  to  the 
literary  world. 

The  third  phenomenon  is  the  change  that  has  mysteriously 
come  over  writers  in  their  attitude  toward  the  strife  of  arms. 
Poetry  of  From  Beowulf  to  Tennyson  practically  all  English 
the  War  poets  sang  the  glory  and  heroism  and  panoply  of 
war  in  the  trump-and-drum  style  of  "  The  Charge  of  the 
Light  Brigade  "  and  "  The  Helmet  of  Navarre."  But  now, 
though  we  have  witnessed  such  heroism  as  was  never  sung 
or  dreamed,  and  this  not  in  plumed  knights  but  in  neighborly 
men,  our  poets  are  strangely  mute  to  the  glory  of  conflict; 
when  they  write  of  war  they  pass  over  its  martial  splendor  to 


592  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

show  you  a  soldier's  heart  with  its  tender  memories.  So  for 
one  old-style  poem  of  "  How  the  Guard  Came  Through  "  there 
are  hundreds,  like  Lieutenant  Asquith's  "The  Volunteer," 
which  say  nothing  whatever  of  fighting,  though  they  leave  you 
with  deeper  respect  for  human  courage  and  almost  a  reverence 
for  the  men  of  your  own  breed.  Masefield's  "August,  1914  " 
is  typical  of  another  strange  kind  of  war  poem ;  it  draws  a  pic- 
ture of  quiet  English  fields,  leaving  your  imagination  to  see  or 
hear  the  stark  horror  of  the  trenches,  the  flash  and  boom  of 
guns  and  the  glare  of  burning  homes  across  the  Channel. 

In  all  these  poets,  young  or  old,  two  noble  qualities  appear : 
a  deathless  loyalty  to  an  ideal  England  and  a  deep  love  of 
peace  as  the  only  normal  condition  of  human  life.  Both  quali- 
ties appear,  with  a  promise  that  was  never  fulfilled,  in  the 
work  of  Rupert  Brooke,  for  example,  a  young  poet  who  went 
out  as  a  soldier  on  the  Dardanelles  expedition.  He  died  there, 
in  the  ^Egean,  and  they  made  his  grave  in  Skyros  that  Achilles 
knew.  Ere  he  gave  a  life  for  his  country  he  bravely  wrote,  as 
our  Nathan  Hale  spoke,  his  own  immortal  epitaph : 

If  I  should  die,  think  only  this  of  me : 

That  there 's  some  corner  of  a  foreign  field 
That  is  forever  England.   There  shall  be 

In  that  rich  earth  a  richer  dust  concealed, 
A  dust  whom  England  bore,  shaped,  made  aware, 

Gave  once  her  flowers  to  love,  her  ways  to  roam, 
A  body  of  England's,  breathing  English  air, 

Washed  by  the  rivers,  blest  by  suns  of  home. 

And  think :  this  heart,  all  evil  shed  away, 

A  pulse  in  the  eternal  mind,  no  less, 

Gives  somewhere  back  the  thoughts  by  England  given, 
Her  sights  and  sounds,  dreams  happy  as  her  day, 

And  laughter  learnt  of  friends,  and  gentleness 
In  hearts  at  peace,  under  an  English  heaven.1 

l  Reprinted  from  Collected  Poems  of  Rupert  Brooke  by  permission  of  the  literary 
executor  and  of  the  publishers,  Sidgwick  and  Jackson,  Ltd.,  and  Dodd,  Mead  &  Com- 
pany, Inc.  Copyright,  1915,  by  Dodd,  Mead  &  Company,  Inc. 


AN  ESSAY  OF  RECENT  LITERATURE  593 

Bibliography.  There  are  near  a  hundred  books  dealing  with  recent 
literature,  but  not  one  to  tell  you  what  you  want  to  know ;  that  is,  for  each 
important  author  such  events  of  his  life  as  may  color  his  work,  his  chief 
books  in  order,  his  philosophy  or  world  view,  his  motive  in  writing,  and  then 
a  word  of  criticism  or  appreciation.  The  books  available  are  mostly  collections 
of  magazine  articles ;  the  selection  of  authors  is  consequently  haphazard, 
many  of  the  most  important  being  omitted ;  and  they  are  almost  wholly 
critical,  giving  you  not  the  author  or  his  work  but  the  critic's  reaction  on  the 
author.  Among  the  best  of  these  reactions  are : 

Phelps,  Advance  of  the  English  Novel  (Dodd),  and  Essays  on  Modern 
Novelists  (Macmillan) ;  Cooper,  Some  English  Story  Tellers  (Holt) ;  Follett, 
Some  Modern  Novelists  (Holt);  Freeman,  The. Moderns  (Crowell).  Phelps, 
Advance  of  English  Poetry  in  the  Twentieth  Century  (Dodd).  Chandler, 
Aspects  of  Modern  Drama  (Macmillan) ;  Phelps,  Twentieth  Century  Theatre 
(Macmillan) ;  Andrews,  The  Drama  of  To-day  (Lippincott) ;  Howe,  Dramatic 
Portraits  (Kennerley) ;  Clark,  British  and  American  Drama  of  To-day  (Holt). 

A  book  which  attempts  to  continue  the  history  of  English  prose  and  verse 
from  the  Victorian  Age  to  the  present  day  is  Cunliffe,  English  Literature 
during  the  Last  Half-Century  (Macmillan,  1919). 

In  addition  to  the  above  collective  studies  there  are  numerous  presenta- 
tions of  Kipling,  Barrie,  Chesterton,  Yeats,  Synge  and  other  recent  writers 
and  dramatists,  each  in  a  single  volume. 


GENERAL  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Every  chapter  in  this  book  includes  two  lists,  one  of  selected  read- 
ings, the  other  of  special  works  treating  of  the  history  and  literature  of 
the  period  under  consideration.  The  following  lists  include  the  books 
most  useful  for  general  reference  work  and  for  supplementary  reading. 

A  knowledge  of  history  is  of  great  advantage  in  the  study  of  lit- 
erature. In  each  of  the  preceding  chapters  we  have  given  a  brief 
summary  of  historical  events  and  social  conditions,  but  the  student 
should  do  more  than  simply  read  these  summaries.  He  should  review 
rapidly  the  whole  history  of  each  period  by  means  of  a  good  text- 
book. Montgomery's  English  History  and  Cheyney's  Short  History 
of  England  are  recommended,  but  any  other  reliable  text-book  will 
serve  the  purpose. 

For  literary  texts  and  selections  for  reading  a  few  general  collec- 
tions, such  as  are  given  below,  are  useful ;  but  the  important  works 
of  each  author  may  now  be  obtained  in  excellent  and  inexpensive 
school  editions.  At  the  beginning  of  the  course  the  teacher,  or  the 
home  student,  should  write  for  the  latest  catalogue  of  such  publica- 
tions as  the  Standard  English  Classics,  Everyman's  Library,  etc., 
which  offer  a  very  wide  range  of  reading  at  small  cost.  Nearly  every 
publishing  house  issues  a  series  of  good  English  books  for  school 
use,  and  the  list  is  constantly  increasing. 

History 

Text-books :  Montgomery's  English  History ;  Cheyney's  Short 
History  of  England  (Ginn  and  Company). 

General  Works :  Green's  Short  History  of  the  English  People, 
i  vol.,  or  A  History  of  the  English  People,  4  vols.  (American 
Book  Co.). 

Traill's  Social  England,  6  vols.  (Putnam). 

Bright's  History  of  England,  5  vols.,  and  Gardiner's  Students' 
History  of  England  (Longmans). 

Gibbins's  Industrial  History  of  England,  and  Mitchell's  English 
Lands,  Letters,  and  Kings,  5  vols.  (Scribner). 

595 


596  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Oxford  Manuals  of  English  History,  Handbooks  of  English  His- 
tory, and  Kendall's  Source  Book  of  English  History  (Macmillan). 

Lingard's  History  of  England  until  1688  (revised,  10  vols.,  1855) 
is  the  standard  Catholic  history. 

Other  histories  of  England  are  by  Knight,  Froude,  Macaulay,  etc. 
Special  works  on  the  history  of  each  period  are  recommended  in 
the  preceding  chapters. 

History  of  Literature 

Jusserand's  Literary  History  of  the  English  People,  2  vols. 
(Putnam). 

Ten  Brink's  Early  English  Literature,  3  vols.  (Holt). 

Courthope's  History  of  English  Poetry  (Macmillan). 

The  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature,  many  vols.,  incom- 
plete (Putnam). 

Handbooks  of  English  Literature,  9  vols.  (Macmillan). 

Garnett  and  Gosse's  Illustrated  History  of  English  Literature, 
4  vols.  (Macmillan). 

Morley's  English  Writers,  n  vols.  (Cassell),  extends  through 
Elizabethan  literature.  It  is  rather  complex  and  not  up  to  datCj 
but  has  many  quotations  from  authors  studied. 

Taine's  English  Literature  (many  editions),  is  brilliant  and  inter- 
esting, but  unreliable. 

Literary  Criticism 

Lowell's  Literary  Essays. 

Hazlitt's  Lectures  on  the  English  Poets. 

Mackail's  The  Springs  of  Helicon  (a  study  of  English  poetry  from 
Chaucer  to  Milton). 

Dowden's  Studies  in  Literature,  and  Dowden's  Transcripts  and 
Studies. 

Minto's  Characteristics  of  English  Poets. 

Matthew  Arnold's  Essays  in  Criticism. 

Stevenson's  Familiar  Studies  in  Men  and  Books. 

Leslie  Stephen's  Hours  in  a  Library. 

Birrell's  Obiter  Dicta. 

Hales's  Folia  Litteraria. 

Pater's  Appreciations. 

NOTE.  Special  works  on  criticism,  the  drama,  the  novel,  etc.,  will  be 
found  in  the  Bibliographies  on  pp.  9,  181,  etc. 


GENERAL  BIBLIOGRAPHY  597 

Texts  and  Helps  (inexpensive  school  editions). 

Standard  English  Classics,  and  Athenaeum  Press  Series  (Ginn  and 
Company). 

Everyman's  Library  (Button). 

Pocket  Classics,  Golden  Treasury  Series,  etc.  (Macmillan). 

Belles  Lettres  Series  (Heath). 

English  Readings  Series  (Holt). 

Riverside  Literature  Series  (Houghton,  Mifflin). 

Canterbury  Classics  (Rand,  McNally). 

Academy  Classics  (Allyn  &  Bacon). 

Cambridge  Literature  Series  (Sanborn). 

Silver  Series  (Silver,  Burdett). 

Student's  Series  (Sibley). 

Lakeside  Classics  (Ainsworth). 

Lake  English  Classics  (Scott,  Foresman). 

Maynard's  English  Classics  (Merrill). 

Eclectic  English  Classics  (American  Book  Co.). 

Caxton  Classics  (Scribner). 

The  King's  Classics  (Luce). 

The  World's  Classics  (Clarendon  Press). 

Little  Masterpieces  Series  (Doubleday,  Page). 

Arber's  English  Reprints  (Macmillan). 

New  Mediaeval  Library  (Duffield). 

Arthurian  Romances  Series  (Nutt). 

Morley's  Universal  Library  (Routledge). 

CasselPs  National  Library  (Cassell). 

Bohn  Libraries  (Macmillan). 

Temple  Dramatists  (Macmillan). 

Mermaid  Series  of  English  Dramatists  (Scribner). 

NOTE.  We  have  included  in  the  above  list  all  the  editions  of  which  we 
have  any  personal  knowledge,  but  there  are  doubtless  others  that  have  es- 
caped attention. 

Biography 

Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  63  vols.  (Macmillan),  is  the 
standard. 

English  Men  of  Letters  Series  (Macmillan). 
Great  Writers  Series  (Scribner). 
Beacon  Biographies  (Houghton,  Mifflin). 


598  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Westminster  Biographies  (Small,  Maynard). 

Hinchman  and  Gummere's  Lives  of  Great  English  Writers 
(Houghton,  Mifflin)  is  a  good  single  volume,  containing  thirty-eight 
biographies. 

NOTE.  For  the  best  biographies  of  individual  writers,  see  the  Bibliographies 
at  the  ends  of  the  preceding  chapters. 

Selections 

Manly's  English  Poetry  and  Manly's  English  Prose  (Ginn  and 
Company)  are  the  best  single-volume  collections,  covering  the  whole 
field  of  English  literature. 

Pancoast's  Standard  English  Poetry,  and  Pancoast's  Standard 
English  Prose  (Holt). 

Oxford  Book  of  English  Verse,  and  Oxford  Treasury  of  English 
Literature,  3  vols.  (Clarendon  Press). 

Page's  British  Poets  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  (Sanborn). 

Stedman's  Victorian  Anthology  (Houghton,  Mifflin). 

Ward's  English  Poets,  4  vols. ;  Craik's  English  Prose  Selections, 
5  vols. ;  Chambers's  Encyclopedia  of  English  Literature,  etc. 

Miscellaneous 

The  Classic  Myths  in  English  Literature  (Ginn  and  Company). 
Adams's  Dictionary  of  English  Literature. 
Ryland's  Chronological  Outlines  of  English  Literature. 
Brewer's  Reader's  Handbook. 
Botta's  Handbook  of  Universal  Literature. 
Ploetz's  Epitome  of  Universal  History. 
Hutton's  Literary  Landmarks  of  London. 
Heydrick's  How  to  Study  Literature. 

For  works  on  the  English  language  see  Bibliography  of  the 
Norman  period,  p.  65. 


INDEX 


KEY  TO  PRONUNCIATION 

a,  as  in  fate ;  5,  as  in  fat ;  a,  as  in  arm ;  a,  as  in  all ;  a,  as  in  what ;  a,  as  in  care 

e,  as  in  mete ;  e,  as  in  met ;  e,  as  in  there 

I,  as  in  ice ;  I,  as  in  it ;  i,  as  in  machine 

6,  as  in  old;  o,  as  in  not;  o,  as  in  move;  6,  as  in  son;  6,  as  in  horse;  do,  as  in  food; 

06,  as  in  foot 

u,  as  in  use ;  u,  as  in  up ;  u,  as  in  fur ;  u,  as  in  rule ;  u,  as  in  pull 
y,  as  in  fly ;  y,  as  in  baby 

c,  as  in  call ;  5,  as  in  mice ;  ch,  as  in  child ;  -eh,  as  in  school 
g,  as  in  go  ;  g,  as  in  cage 
s,  as  in  saw ;  s,  as  in  is 
th,  as  in  thin ;  th,  as  in  then 
x,  as  in  vex ;  x,  as  in  exact 

NOTE.    Titles  of  books,  poems,  essays,  etc.,  are  in  italics. 


Absalom  and  Achitophel  (a-ehit'o-fel), 

246 

Abt  Vogler  (apt  vog'ler),  477 
Actors,    in    early   plays,    119;    Eliza- 
bethan, 129 
Addison,  278;  life,  279;  works,  281; 

hymns,  283 ;  influence,  279 ;  style, 

282 

Adonais  (ad-o-na'is),  417,  424 
^Esc  (esk),  28 
Aidan,  St.  (I'dan),  31 
Aids  to  Reflection,  393 
Alastor  (a-las'tor),  415 
Alchemist,  The,  161 
Alexanders  Feast,  246,  248 
Alfred,  King,  39;  life  and  times,  40; 

works,  40,  41 
Alice-for-Short,  582 
All  for  Love,  245,  246 
Alysoun,  or  Alisoun  (ary-sown  or  aTy- 

zoon),  old  form  of  Alice,  63 
Amelia,  354 
American    Taxation,   Burke's  speech 

on,  300 

An  Epistle,  476 
Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  228 
Ancren  Riwle  (angk'ren  rpl),  60 
Andrea  del Sarto  (an-dra'ya  del  sar'to), 

476 
Andreas,  38 


Angel  in  the  House*  The,  586 

Angeln,  23 

Angles,  the,  23 

Anglo-Norman  Period,  46 ;  literature, 
49,  52 ;  ballads,  61  ;  lyrics,  62 ; 
summary,  63 ;  selections  for  read- 
ing, 64 ;  bibliography,  64 ;  ques- 
tions on,  65  ;  chronology,  66 

Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle,  28,  45,  48 

Anglo-Saxon  Period,  10;  early  poetry, 
10-24;  springs  of  poetry,  26;  lan- 
guage, 27  ;  Christian  writers,  30-41 ; 
source  books,  39 ;  summary,  42 ; 
selections  for  reading,  43 ;  bibli- 
ography, 43  ;  questions  on,  44 ; 
chronology,  45 

Anglo-Saxons,  6;  the  name,  23  ;  life, 
24,  25;  language,  27;  literature, 
see  Anglo-Saxon  Period 

Annus  Mirabilis,  244,  248 

Anselm,  51 

Apologia,  Newman's,  553,  555 

Apologie  for  Poetrie,  114 

Arcadia,  113,  342 

Areopagitica  (ar'e-op-a-jit'i-ca),  213 

Arnold,  Matthew,  486,  545  ;  life,  545  ; 
poetry,  547;  prose  works,  550; 
characteristics,  551 

Art,  definition  of,  2 

Arthurian  romances,  56,  57 


599 


6oo 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


Artistic  period  of  drama,  123 
Artistic  quality  of  literature,  2 
Ascham,  Roger,  92 
Asquith,  Lieutenant,  592 
Assonance,  54,  55 

Astrcea  Redux  (as-tre'a  re'duks),  244 
Astrophel  and  Stella  (as'tro-fel),  114 
Atalanta  in  Calydon  (at-a-liin'ta,  kal'i- 

don),  486 
August,  1914,  592 
Augustan    Age,    meaning,    263.    See 

Eighteenth-Century  Literature 
Auld  Licht  Idylls,  582 
Aurora  Leigh  (a-ro'ra  le),  483 
Austen,   Jane,   375,   437;    life,   438; 

novels,  439 ;  Scott's  criticism  of,  439 

Bacon,  Francis,  166;  life,  167;  works, 
170;  place  and  influence,  173 

Bacon,  Roger,  51,  173 

Ballad,  the,  61,  524 

Ballad  of  East  and  West,  The,  573 

Ballads  and  Sonnets,  484 

Barchester  Towers,  514 

Bard,  The,  310 

Bard  of  the  Dimbovitza  (dim-bo-vitz'a), 
Roumanian  folk  songs,  2-3 

Barrack- Room  Ballads,  573 

Barrel  Organ,  The,  586 

Barrie,  James  M.,  582 

Battle  of  Agincourt  (English,  aj'in- 
k5rt),  115 

Battle  of  Bmnanburh,  41 

Battle  of  the  Books,  271 

Baxter,  Richard,  230 

Beaumont,  Francis  (b5'mont),  163 

Becked  463 

Bede,  31 ;  his  history,  32  ;  his  account 
of  Caedmon,  33 

Bell  Buoy,  The,  573 

Bells  and  Pomegranates,  472,  475 

Beloved  Vagabond,  The,  582 

Benefit  of  clergy,  159 

Bennett,  Arnold,  579,  580 

Beowulf  (ba'5-wulf),  the  poem,  10-16 ; 
history,  17 ;  poetical  form,  17 ; 
manuscript  of,  39 

Beowulf's  Mount,  15 

Bibliographies,  study  of  literature,  9 ; 
Anglo-Saxon  Period,  43;  Norman, 
64 ;  Chaucer,  86 ;  Revival  of  Learn- 
ing* 975  Elizabethan,  181  ;  Puri- 
tan, 233;  Restoration,  256;  Eight- 
eenth Century,  360 ;  Romanticism, 
444 ;  Victorian,  562  ;  general,  595 


Bickerstaff  Almanac,  273 
Biographia  Literaria,  393 
Blackmore,  Richard,  516 
Blake,  William,  328  ;  life,  329 ;  works, 

331 

Blank  verse,  95 

Blessed  Damozel,  484 

Blot  in  the  'Scutcheon,  A,  475 

Bob,  Son  of  Battle,  583 

Boethius  (bo-e'thi-us),  41 

Boileau  (bwa-lo')»  French  critic,  242, 
262 

Boke  of  the  Ditches se,  73,  80 

Bookman's  Letters,  A,  589 

Book  of  Martyrs,  176 

Borough,  The,  334 

Boswell,  James,  293.  See  also  Johnson 

Boy  actors,  130 

Breton,  Nicholas,  192 

Bridge  Builders,  The,  574 

Brierley,  J.,  590 

Bronte,  Charlotte  and  Emily,  514 

Brooke,  Rupert,  592 

Browne,  Thomas,  228 ;  works,  229 

Browning,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Barrett, 
272,  481-483 

Browning,  Robert,  469;  life,  471; 
works,  473;  obscurity  of,  469;  as 
a  teacher,  470 ;  compared  with 
Shakespeare,  474  ;  with  Tennyson, 
480;  periods  of  work,  475;  soul 
studies,  476;  place  and  message,  480 

Brushwood  Boy,  The,  574 

Biut,  Layamon's,  53  ;  quotation  from, 

54 

Brutus,  alleged  founder  of  Britain,  51 
Bulwer  Lytton,  515 
Bunyan,  John,  219;  life,  219;  works, 

224 ;  his  style,  226 
Burke,  Edmund,  297  ;  life,  297 ;  works, 

298 ;  analysis  of  his  orations,  300 
Burney,  Fanny  (Madame  D'Arblay), 

Burns,  Robert,  321  ;  life,  322;  poetry, 
325  ;  Carlyle's  essay  on,  532 

Burton,  Robert,  228 

Butler,  Samuel,  Hudibras,  250 

Butler,  Samuel,  579 

Byron,  405;  life,  406;  works,  408; 
compared  with  Scott,  410 

Caedmon  (kad'mon),  life,  33 ;  works, 
34 ;  his  Paraphrase,  34 ;  school  of, 

3.6 

Cain,  409 


INDEX 


60 1 


Callista,  556 

Calvert,  Raisley,  380 

Camden,  William,  24,  177 

Campaign,  The,  280 

Campion,  Thomas,  192 

Canterbury    Tales,   74;    plan   of,   75; 

prologue,   77  ;    Dry  den's  criticism 

of,  77 

Canynge's  coffer,  336 
Captains  Cotirageous,  574 
Card,  The,  580 
Carew,  Thomas,  200 
Carlyle,   527;  life,  527;  works,  530; 

style  and  message,  536 
Carols,  in  early  plays,  120 
Casa  Guidi  Windows  (ka'sa  gwe'de), 

483 

Castell  of  Perseverance,  122 
Castle  of  Indolence,  333 
Cato,  283 

Cavalier  poets,  200 
Caxton,  95;  specimen  of  printing,  90 
Celtic  legends,  56 
Celtic  revival,  588 
Chance,  578 
Chansons  de  Geste,  55 
Chanson  de  Roland,  55 
Chapman,  George,   114;   his  Homer, 

114;  Keats's  sonnet  on,  421 
Chatterton,  Thomas,  336 
Chaucer,  how  to  read,  68 ;   life,  69 ; 

works,  72  ;  form  of  his  poetry,  79; 

melody,  80;  compared  with  Spenser, 

in 
Chaucer,  Age  of:  history,  67;  writers, 

68-86 ;    summary,    86 ;    selections 

for  reading,  86;  bibliography,  86; 

questions  on,  87 ;  chronology,  88 
Chester  plays,  118 
Chesterton  (G.  K.  C.),  590 
Cheyne  Row,  529 
Childe  Harold,  405,  407,  409 
Child's  Garden  of  Verses,  520 
Chochilaicus  (ko-kil-a'i-cus),  17 
Christ,  The,  of  Cynewulf,"37 
Christabel,  391 
Christian  Year,  486 
Christmas  Carol,  A,  495 
Christ's  Hospital,  London,  388,  428 
Chronicle,  The  Anglo-Saxon,  28,  45,  48 
Chronicle  plays,  135 
Chronicles,  riming,  53 
Chronology :     Anglo-Saxon     Period, 

45;    Norman-French,   66;    Age  of 

Chaucer,  88  ;  Revival  of  Learning, 


98;  Elizabethan,  185;  Puritan,  235; 
Restoration,  257;  Eighteenth  Cen- 
tury, 367  ;  Romanticism,  451  ;  Vic- 
torian, 568 

Citizen  of  the  World,  313,  314 

Clarissa,  352 

Classic  and  classicism,  261-263 

Classic  influence  on  the  drama,  126 

"  Clear,  Claudius,"  589 

Cloister  and  the  Hearth,  513 

Clough,  Arthur  Hugh,  486 

Cockaygne,  Land  0/"(k6-kan'),  6l 

Coleridge,  373,  376,  387;  life,  387; 
works,  391  ;  critical  writings,  393 

Collier,  Jeremy,  293 

Collins,  William,  333 

Colum,  Padraic,  588 

Comedy,  definition,  123;  first  Eng- 
lish, 151  ;  of  the  court,  136 

Complete  Angler,  The,  231 

Comtis,  Masque  of,  210 

Conciliation  with  America,  Burke's 
speech,  300 

Confessions  of  an  English  Opium- 
Eater,  433,  435 

Conrad,  Joseph,  577 

Consolations  of  Philosophy,  41 

Cotter's  Saturday  Night,  328 

Country  House,  The,  578 

Couplet,  the,  242 

Court  comedies,  136 

Covenant  of  1643,  *88 

Coventry  plays,  118 

Cowley,  Abraham,  193 

Cowper,  William,  316;  life,  317; 
works,  318 

Crabbe,  George,  333 

Cranford,  516 

Crashaw,  Richard,  193 

Critic,  meaning  of,  248 

Critical  writing,  Dryden,  248 ;  Cole- 
ridge, 393 ;  in  Age  of  Romanticism, 
425;  in  Victorian  Age,  550,  558 

Criticism,  Arnold's  definition,  550 

Cross,  John  Walter,  508 

Crown  of  Wild  Olive,  541 

Culture  and  Anarchy,  547,  550 

Curse  of  Kehama  (ke-ha'ma),  394 

Ctirsor  Mundi,  60 

Cycles,  of  plays,  118;  of  romances,  55 

Cynewulf  (kin'e-wulf),  36-38 

Cynthia's  Revels  (sin'thi-a),  160 

Daniel,  Samuel,  191 
Daniel  Deronda,  507,  509 


602 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


Danny  Deever,  573 

D'Arblay,  Madame  (Fanny  Burney), 

375 

Darwin  and  Darwinism,  558 

Dauber,  585 

David  Grieve,  581 

Death,  Raleigh's  apostrophe  to,  176 

Decline  and  fall  of  the  Roman  Em- 
pire, 303 

Defense  of  Poesie,  114 

Defensio  pro  Populo  Anglicano,  208 

Defoe,  345  ;  life,  346;  works,  349 

Dekker,  Thomas,  165 

Delia,  191 

Democracy  and  Romanticism,  369 ; 
in  Victorian  Age,  453 

De  Morgan,  William  Frend,  581,  582 

Denry  the  Attdacious,  580 

Dear's  Lament,  20 

Departmental  Ditties,  573 

De  Quincey,  425,  431;  life,  432; 
works,  434;  style,  432,  435 

De  Sapientia  Vetemm,  173 

Deserted  Village,  The,  311,  314 

Dethe  of  Blanche  the  Duchesse,  73,  80 

Diary,  Evelyn's,  253;  Pepys's,  253; 
selections  from,  254 

Dickens,  487  ;  life,  487  ;  works,  490 ; 
general  plan  of  novels,  492 ;  his 
characters,  493 ;  his  public,  491 ; 
limitations,  493 

Dictionary,  Johnson's,  291 

Discoverie  of  Guiana  (ge-a'na),  175 

Diversity  of  Creatures,  A,  574 

Divina  Commedia  (de-ve'na  kom- 
ma'de-a),  217 

Dr.Jekyll  and  Mr.  Hyde,  519 

Domestic  drama,  136 

Donne,  John,  194;  his  poetry,  195 

Dotheboys  Hall  (do-the-boys),  488 

Doyle,  Arthur  Conan,  583 

Drake,  586 

Drama,  in  Elizabethan  Age,  101;  ori- 
gin, 115;  periods  of,  116,  121,  123; 
miracle  and  mystery  plays,  117; 
interludes,  122;  classical  influence 
on,  126;  unities,  126;  the  English, 
127;  types  of,  135;  decline  of,  156. 
See  also  Elizabethan  Age,  Shake- 
speare, Jonson,  Marlowe,  etc. 

Dramatic  unities,  126 

Dramatists,  methods  of,  131.  See 
Shakespeare,  Marlowe,  etc. 

Drapier^s  Letters,  277 

Drayton,  Michael,  114 


Dream  of  Gerontius,  The  (je-ron'shi- 

us)>  555»  557 
Dryden,  243;  life,  243;  works,  246; 

influence,    248,    249 ;    criticism    of 

Canterbury   Tales,  76 
Duchess  of  Malfi  (mal'fe),  164 
Dunciad,  The  (dun'si-ad),  269 

Ealhild,  queen  (e-al'hild),  18 

Earthly  Paradise,  485 

Eastward  Ho  !  158 

Economic  conditions,  in  Age  of  Ro- 
manticism, 371 

Edgeworth,  Maria,  375,  437 

Edward  II,  134 

Egoist,  The,  518 

Eighteenth-Century  Literature:  his- 
tory of  the  period,  258;  literary 
characteristics,  260 ;  the  Classic 
Age,  261 ;  Augustan  writers,  264 ; 
romantic  revival,  304 ;  the  first 
novelists,  338;  summary,  357;  se- 
lections for  reading,  359;  bibliog- 
raphy, 360 ;  questions,  364  ;  chro- 
nology, 367 

Eikon  Basilike  (I'kon  ba-sil'i-ke),  207 

Eikonoklastes  (I-kon-o-klas'tez),  207 

Elegy,  Gray's,  307,  309 

Elene,  38 

Elizabethan  Age :  history,  99 ;  non- 
dramatic  poets,  101,  n?;  first 
dramatists,  115;  Shakespeare's 
predecessors,  130 ;  Shakespeare, 
137;  Shakespeare's  contemporaries 
and  successors,  156;  prose  writers, 
166;  summary,  179;  selections, 
180 ;  bibliography,  181  ;  questions, 
183;  chronology,  185 

Endymion,  421 

English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers, 
406 

English  Humorists,  409,  502 

English  Idyls,  466 

Eormanric  (e-or'man-ric),  18 

Epiccene  (ep'i-sen),  or  The  Silent 
Woman,  161 

Epithalamion  (ep-i-tha-Ia'mt-on),  109 

Erasmus,  93 

Essay  concerning  Human  Understand- 
ing, 252 

Essay  of  Dramatic  Poesy,  249 

Essay  on  Burns,  532 

Essay  on  Criticism,  266 

Essay  on  Man,  268 

Essay  on  Milton,  522,  523,  526 


INDEX 


603 


Essays,  Addison's,  281  ;  Bacon's,  171 

Essays  in  Criticism,  547,  550 

Essays  of  Elia  (e'li-a),  430 

Essays,  recent,  589 

Ethics  of  the  Dust,  541 

Euphites  and  euphuism  (u'fu-ez),  130 

Evans,  Mary  Ann.    See  George  Eliot 

Evelyn,  John,  252 

Everlasting  Mercy,  The,  585 

Everlasting  No,  and  Yea,  The,  529 

Every  Man  in  His  Humour,  1 60 

Everyman,  121 

Excursion,  The,  386 

Exeter  Book,  39 

Faber,  Frederick,  486 

Eables,  Dryden's,  246 

faery  Queen,  104,  105 

Eall  of  Princes,  113 

Eaust  (foust),  Faustus  (fas'tus),  133 

Eeet  of  the  Young  Men,  The,  572 

Ferrex  and  Porrex,  113,  125 

Fielding,  353;  novels,  353;  charac- 
teristics, 354 

Fifty  Singing  Seamen,  586 

Fight  at  Finnsburgh,  22 

Fingal  (fing'gal),  335 

Firot-folio  Shakespeare,  148 

Flag  of  England,  The,  573 

Fletcher,  Giles,  192 

Fletcher,  John,  163 

Flower  of  Old  Japan,  The,  586 

For  All  We  Have  and  Are,  573 

Ford,  John,  165 

Forest  of  Wild  Thyme,  The,  586 

Formalism,  241 

Four  Georges,  The,  499,  503 

Foxe,  John,  176 

Fragments  of  Ancient  Poetry,  334 

French  influence  in  Restoration  litera- 
ture, 238 

French  language  in  England,  47 

French  Revolution,  influence  of,  370, 
372 

French  Revolution,  Carlyle's,  534 

Fuller,  Thomas,  229 

Gallipoli,  591 
Galsworthy,  John,  578 
Gammer  Giirton's  Needle,  124 
Gaskell,  Mrs.  Elizabeth,  516 
Gaivain  and  the   Green  Knight  (ga'- 

wan),  57,  342 

Gawain  cycle  of  romances,  57 
Gebir  (ga-ber/),  440,  441 


Geoffrey  of  Monmouth  (jef'rT),  48,  51 
George  Eliot,  504 ;    life,  505  ;   works, 

508 ;     characteristics,    509 ;     as    a 

moralist,  510 
Gest  (or  jest)  books,  56 
Geste  of  Robin  Hood,  56,  6 1 
Gibbon,  302  ;  his  history,  303 
Gifts  of  God,  The,  199 
Girondists  (jl-ron'dists),  379 
Gleemen,  or  minstrels,  26,  27 
Goldsmith,  311  ;  life,  312;  works,  314 
Good  Cotinsel,  72 
Good  Friday,  586 
Gorboduc  (gor'b5-duk),  125 
Gorgeous  Gallery,  112 
Cower,  68,  86 
Grace  Aboiinding,  226 
Gray,  Thomas,  307  ;  life,  308  ;  works, 

3°9 

Greatest  English  Poets,  280 
Green  Mansions,  584 
Greene,  Robert,  131 
Gregory,  Lady,  588 
Gregory,  Pope,  41 

Grendel,  story  of,  n  ;  mother  of,  13 
Grubb  Street,  290 
Gulliver's  Travels,  275 
GulVs  Hornbook,  129 

Haggard,  Rider,  583 

Ilakluyt,  Richard  (hak'loot),  177 

Hallam,  436 ;  his  criticism  of  Bacon, 

1 66 

Hardy,  Thomas,  518,  591 
Hastings,  battle  of,  47 
Hathaway,  Anne,  142 
Hazlitt,  William,  426 
Helen  of  the  High  Hand,  580 
Hengist  (heng'gist),  28 
Henry  Esmond,  499 
Herbert,    George,     196;     life,     197; 

poetry  of,  198 
Hero  and  Leander,  114 
Herod,  587 

Heroes  and  Hero  Worship,  529,  533 
Heroic  couplet,  239 
Heroic  Stanzas,  243 
Herrick,  Robert,  200 
Hesperides  and  Noble  Niimbers  (hes- 

per'I-dez),  201 
Hewlett,  Maurice,  584 
Heywood,  John,  122,  123 
Heywood,  Thomas,  164 
Hilda,  abbess,  33 
Hildgund  (hild'gund),  22 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


Historical  novel,  402 

History  of  England,  Macaulay's,  522, 

525 
History  of  Frederick   the   Great,  Car- 

lyle's,  530,  534 

History  of  Henry  VIII,  Bacon's,  173 
History  of  the  Reformation  in  Scotland, 

Knox's,  177 

History  of  the  World,  Raleigh's,  175 
Hnaef  (nef),  22 
Hobbes,  Thomas,  251 
Holofernes  (hol-6-fer'nez),  in  Judith, 

36 

Holy  and  Profane  State,  229 
Holy  Living,  230 
Holy  War,  226 
Homer,    Chapman's,   114;    Dryden's, 

246;  Pope's,  267;  Cowper's,  319 
Hooker,  Richard,  174 
Hooker,  Thomas,  186 
Hope,  Anthony,  584 
Hound  of  Heaven,  The,  587 
Hours  in  a  Library,  558 
Hours  of  Idleness,  406,  409 
House  of  Fame,  73 
House  of  Life,  484 
Hrothgar  (roth'gar),  n 
Hudibras  (hu'di-bras),  250 
Hudson,  583 
Humanism,  91 
Humphrey  Clinker,  355 
Hunt,  Leigh,  426 
Husband's  Message,  26 
Huxley,  558 
Hygelac  (hi-je'lak),  17 
Hymn  book,  first  English,  193 
Hymn  to  Intellectual  Beauty,  412 
Hymns,   Addison's,   283 ;     Cowper's, 

318,319 

Hypatia  (hi-pa'shia),  516 
Hyperion  (hi-pe'ri-on),  422 

Idealism  of  Victorian  Age,  456 
Ideals,  8 

Idols,  of  Bacon,  170,  173 
Idylls  of  the  King,  466 
//  Penseroso  (il  pen-se-ro'so),  209 
Iliad,  Pope's  translation,  267 ;  Chap- 
man's, 114;  Dryden's,  246 
Imaginary  Conversations,  441 
Impeachment  of  Warren  Hastings,  300 
In  Memoriam,  461,  464 
Incarnation  of  Krishna  Mulvaney,  574 
Instauratio  Magna  (in-sta-ra'shi-o),  170 
Interludes,  122 


In  the  Seven  Woods,  588 
Intimations  of  Immortality,  384,  385 

Jacobean  poets,  191 

Jane  Eyre  (ar),  514 

Jeffrey,  Francis,  375 

Jest  (or  gest)  books,  56 

Jew  of  Malta,  134 

Joan  and  Peter,  576 

John  Gilpin,  320 

Johnson,    Samuel,    287;     life,    289; 

works,  291  ;  his  conversations,  294  ; 

Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson,  293 
Jonathan  Wild,  354 
Jonson,  Ben,  1 57 ;  life,  1 58  ;  works,  1 59 
Joseph  Andrews,  353 
Joseph  Vance,  582 
Journal  of  the  Plague  Year,  350 
Journal  to  Stella,  272,  276 
Judith,  36 
Juliana,  36 
Jungle  Book,  The,  574,  575 

Keats,    418;    life,    419;    works,  420; 

place  in  literature,  423 
Kilmarnock  Burns,  the,  325 
Kim,  574,  575 
Kings'  Treasuries,  542 
Kingsley,  Charles,  515,  555 
King  Solomon's  Mines,  583 
Kipling,  570,  571;    life,  571;   verse, 

572  ;  prose,  574 
Knighfs  Tale,  The,  78 
Knox,  John,  177 
Kubla  Khan  (kob'la  kan),  391 
Kyd,  Thomas,  131 

L? Allegro  (lal-a'gro),  209 

Lady  of  the  Lake,  397,  401 

Lady  Rose's  Daughter,  581 

Lake  poets,  the,  373 

Lamb,  Charles,  426 ;  life,  427  ;  works, 

429 ;  style,  430 
Lamb,  Mary,  428,  429 
Lamia  (la'mi-a),  418,  422 
Land  of  Cockaygne  (ko-kan'),  61 
Land  of  Dreams,  332 
Land  of  Heart's  Desire,  The,  588 
Landor,   Walter    Savage,  440 ;    life, 

440;  works,  441 
Langland,  William,  81 
Language,  our  first  speech,  27  ;   dual 

character  of,  29  ;  Teutonic  origin,  28 
Last  Days  of  Pompeii  (pom-pa'ye),  515 
Law,  Hooker's  idea  of,  175 


INDEX 


605 


Laws  of  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  174 

Lay  Sermons,  559 

Layamon,  53 

Lays  of  Ancient  Rome,  524 

Lead,  Kindly  Light,  554 

Lectures  on  Shakespeare,  393 

Legende  of  Goode  Wimmen,  74 

Leviathan,  251 

Lewes,  George  Henry,  506 

Liberty  of  Prophesying,  230 

Life,  compared  to  a  sea  voyage,  37 

Life  of  Johnson,  293,  296 

Life  of  Savage,  290 

Light  that  Failed,  The,  574 

Lindsay,  David,  122 

Literary  Club,  the,  291 

Literary  criticism,  425.  See  also 
Critical  writing 

Literary  Reminiscences,  434 

Literature,  definition,  8  ;  qualities,  2  ; 
tests,  5  ;  object  in  studying,  6;  im- 
portance, 7 ;  Goethe's  definition, 
7  ;  spirit  of  modern,  559 

Literature  and  Dogma,  547,  550 

Little  Minister,  The,  583 

Little  White  Bird,  The,  583 

Lives,  Plutarch's,  178;  Walton's,  231 

Lives  of  the  Poets,  292 

Locke,  John,  252 

Locke,  William  J.,  581,  582 

Lockhart,  John,  375 

Lorna  Doone,  516 

Lost  Leader,  The,  380 

Lovelace,  Richard,  202 

Lycidas  (lis'i-das),  211 

Lydgate,  John,  113 

Lyly,  John  (lil'i)*  130 

Lyra  Apostolica,  554,  557 

Lyrical  Ballads,  376 

Lytton,  Edward  Bulwer,  515 

Mac  Manus,  Seumas,  588 

Macaulay,  520 ;  life,  521  ;  works,  523  ; 

characteristics,  526 
Macpherson,  James  (mak-fer'son),  334 
Magazines,  the  modern,  375 
Maldon,  The  Battle  of,^\ 
Malory,  95 

Man  of  Property,  The,  578 
Man  Who  Saw,  The,  591 
Man  Who  Was,  The,  573,  574 
Mandeville's  Travels,  85 
Manfred,  409 
Many  Inventions,  574 
Marcella,  581 


Margaret  Ogilvy,  583 
Marlowe,  132;  life,  132;  works,  133; 
and  Milton,  134  ;  and  Shakespeare, 

135 

Marmton,  397,  401 
Marpessa,  587 
Marriage,  576 

Man-iage  of  William  Ashe,  The,  581 
Marvell,  Andrew,  193 
Masefield,  John,  585,  590,  591,  592 
Massinger,  Philip,  165 
Matter  of  France,  Rome,  and  Britain, 

55»  56 

Maxwell,  W.  B.,  584 
Melodrama,  136 
Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier,  349,  350 
Meredith,  George,  517 
Merlin  and  the  Gleam,  457 
Merrick,  Leonard,  584 
Metaphysical  poets,  191,  193 
Metrical  romances,  54,  55 
Middleton,  Thomas,  164 
Miles  Gloriosus  (me'les  glo-ri-6'sus)v 

123 

Mill  on  the  Floss,  510 
Milton,  202  ;  life,  204 ;  early  or  Hor- 

ton  poems,  209;  prose  works,  212  ; 

later  poetry,  213  ;  and  Shakespeare, 

202  ;  Wordsworth's  sonnet  on,  202 
Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border,  397 
Miracle  of  Purun  Bhagat,  The,  574 
Miracle  plays,  117 
Mirror  for  Magistrates,  1 1 3 
Mr.  Badman,  Life  and  Deathof,  226,344 
Mr.  Britling  Sees  It  Through,  591 
Modern  literature,  spirit  of,  559 
Modern  novelists,  575 
Modern  Painters,  539,  543 
Modern  Romance,  581 
Modest  Proposal,  A,  274 
Moral  Epistles,  265,  266 
Moral  period  of  the  drama,  121 
Moral  purpose  in  Victorian  literature, 

455.  559 

Morality  plays,  121 
More,  Hannah,  375 
More,  Thomas,  93 
Morris,  William,  484 
Morte  d1  Arthur  (mort  dar'ther),  95 
Mother  Hubbard's  Tale,  103 
Mulfykek  (mu-la'ka),  477 
My  Last  Duchess,  477 
Mysteries  of  Udolpho,  The  (u-dol'fo), 

374 
Mystery  plays,  117 


6o6 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


New  Atalantis,  172,  342 
Newcomes,  The,  497,  502 
New  Machiavelli,  The,  577 
Newman,    Cardinal,    552;    life,    552; 

prose    works,    555;     poems,    557; 

style,  557 

Newspapers,  the  first,  258,  259 
Nibelungenlied  (ne'be-lung-en-let),  22 
Nicoll,  W.  Robertson,  589 
Noah,  play  of,  119 
Norman  Conquest,  47 
Norman  pageantry,  116 
Norman  period.    See  Anglo-Norman 
Normans,  46  ;  union  with  Saxons,  48  ; 

literature  of,  48 
North,    Christopher   (John   Wilson), 

375 

North,  Thomas,  178 
Northanger  Abbey  (north'an-jer),  439 
Northern  Antiquities,  338 
Northumbrian  literature,  30 ;  decline 

of,  38  ;  how  saved,  40 
Nostromo,  578 
Novel,  meaning  and  history,  339,  340 ; 

precursors   of,   341  ;     discovery  of 

modern,  344 
Novelists,  the  first  English,  338,  357. 

See  Scott,  Dickens,  etc. 
Novum  Organum  (or'ga-num),  170 
Noyes,  Alfred,  586 

Ode  on  the  Morning  of  Chris fs  Nativ- 
ity, 205,  209 

Ode  to  Dejection,  387 

Ode  to  the  West  Wind,  410 

Odes,  Pindaric,  193 

Odyssey,  Pope's,  267 ;  Chapman's,  114; 
Dryden's,  246 

Old  Fortunatus  (for-tu-na'tus),  165 

Old  Front  Line,  The,  591 

Old  Wives1  Tale,  The,  580 

Oliver  Cromwell,  Carlyle's,  534 

Oliver  Twist,  492,  493 

Ollivant,  Alfred,  583 

007,  574 

Origin  of  Species,  558 

Orlando  Furioso  (or-lan'd5  foo-re-o'- 
so),  105 

Orm,  or  Orme,  60 ;  his  Ormulum,  60 

Orosius  (5-ro'si-us),  his  history,  40 

Ossian  (osh'ian)  and  Ossianic  poems, 

335 

Ourselves  and  the  Universe,  590 
Owl  and  Nightingale,  The,  60 
Oxford  movement,  554 


P*s,  The  Four,  \  23 

Palamon  and  Arcite  (pal'a-mon,  ar7- 
site),  78 

Pamela  (pam'e-la),  344,  351 

Pantisocracy(pan-tl-sok/ra-se),  of  Cole- 
ridge, Southey,  etc.,  388 

Paolo  and  Francesca,  587 

Paradise  Lost,  213,  214 

Paradise  Regained,  217 

Parody se  of  Daynty  Devises,  112 

Paraphrase  of  Caedmon,  34 

Parish  Register,  The,  334 

Patmore,  Coventry,  586 

Patrician,  The,  578 

Pauline,  472,  475 

Pearl,  The,  59 

Pelham,  515 

Pendennis,  498,  502 

Pepys,  Samuel  (pep'is,  peps,  peps), 
252,  253 

Percy,  Thomas,  337 

Peregrine  Pickle  (per'e-grin),  355 

Pericles  and  Aspasia  (per'i-klez,  as-pa'- 
shi-a),  442 

Peter  Pan,  583 

Philip  the  King,  586 

Philistines,  the,  550 

Phillips,  Stephen,  587 

Phillpotts,  Eden,  579 

Phoenix  (fe'nix),  37 

Pickwick  Papers,  487,  489,  492 

Piers  Plowman  (peers),  8 1 

Pilgrim's  Progress,  224,  343 

Pindaric  odes  (pin-dar'ic),  193 

Pinero,  Arthur  Wing,  589 

Pippa  Passes,  475,  478 

Plain  Man's  Pathway  to  Heaven,  221 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills,  574 

Plays,  recent,  589 

Plutarch's  Lives,  178 

Poems  by  Two  Brothers,  459 

Poetaster,  The,  160 

Poetry  of  everyday  life,  585 

Poets,  recent,  584 

Polyolbion  (pol-i-ol'bi-on),  114 

Pope,  Alexander,  264 ;  life,  264 ; 
works,  266 

Porter,  Jane,  375 

Practice  of  Piety,  221 

Preeterita  (pre-ter'i-ta),  538,  541 

Praise  of  Folly,  93 

Prelude,  The,  377,  378,  379*  3§6 

Pre-Raphaelites  (ra'fa-el-ites),  483 

Pride  and  Prejudice,  437,  439 

Princess,  The,  461,  463 


INDEX 


607 


Prometheus    Unbound   (pro-me'thus), 

4*5 

Prose  development  in  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, 260 

Pseudo-classicism  (su'do),  263 
Purchas,  Samuel,  178;   Purchas  His 

Pilgrimes,  178 

Puritan  Age:    history,  186;    literary 
characteristics,    189;     poets,    190; 
prose  writers,  219;  compared  with 
Elizabethan,   196;    summary,  232; 
selections  for  reading,  233;   bibli- 
ography,    233;      questions,     234; 
chronology,  235 
Puritan  movement,  186 
Puritans,  wrong  ideas  of,  186 

Queen  Mab,  in  Borneo  and  Juliet,  141 
Queen's  Gardens,  542 
Quiller-Couch,  584 

Rabbi  Ben  Ezra,  477 

Radcliffe,  Mrs.  Anne,  374 

Raleigh,  Walter,  175 

Ralph  Royster  Doyster,  123 

Rambler  essays,  288,  290,  292 

Rape  of  the  Lock,  266 

Reade,  Charles,  513 

Realism,  240 

Realists,  575,  579 

Recessional,  573 

Recluse,  The,  386 

Redcross  Knight  of  The  Faery  Queen, 

106 
Reflections  on  the  French  Revolution, 

299 

Religio  Laid,  245 
Religio  Medici,  229 
Religious  period  of  the  drama,  116 
Reliques  of  Ancient  English    Poetry, 

337 

Reminiscences,  Carlyle's,  530 

Remorse,  389 

Renaissance,  the  (re-na'sans,  ren-e- 
sans',  etc.),  91 

Restoration  Period  :  history,  236 ;  lit- 
erary characteristics,  238 ;  writers, 
243;  summary,  255;  selections  for 
reading,  256;  bibliography,  256; 
questions,  256;  chronology,  257 

Revival  of  Learning  Period  :  history, 
89  ;  literature,  92  ;  summary,  96 ; 
selections  for  reading,  97  ;  bibli- 
ography, 97  ;  questions,  97  ;  chro- 
nology, 98 


Re-volt  of  Islam,  413,  416 
Revolution,    French,    370,    372 ;     of 

1688,  238;  age  of,  369 
Richardson,  Samuel,  350;  novels  of, 

351 

Riders  to  the  Sea,  588 

Rights  of  Man,  299,  371 

Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner,  392 

Rime  Royal,  79 

Ring  and  the  Book,  The,  479 

Robert  Elsmere,  581 

Robin  Hood,  56,  6 1 

Robinson  Crusoe,  345,  349 

Roderick,  395 

Roderick  Random,  355 

Romance,  339;  Greek  Romances, 
341  ;  modern,  581 

Romance  languages,  46 

Romance  of  the  Rose,  72 

Romantic  comedy  and  tragedy,  136 

Romantic  enthusiasm,  372 

Romantic  poetry,  304 

Romanticism,  Age  of,  369 ;  history, 
370  ;  literary  characteristics,  372  ; 
poets,  376 ;  prose  writers,  425  ;  sum- 
mary, 442  ;  selections  for  reading, 
443  ;  bibliography,  444 ;  questions, 
448;  chronology,  451 

Romanticism,  meaning,  304 

Romola,  507,  509,  512 

Rosalynde,  343 

Rossetti,  Christina  (ros-set'te),  486 

Rossetti,  Dante  Gabriel,  483 

Rowley  Papers,  336 

Royal  Society,  241 

Runes,  36 

Ruskin,  537  ;  life,  538 ;  works,  541 ; 
characteristics,  544  ;  message,  544 

Russell,  George  W.,  588 

Sackville,  Thomas,  113 

St.  Catherine,  Play  of,\\~} 

St.  George  and  the  Dragon,  590 

St.  George's  Guild,  538,  541 

Saints'  Everlasting  Rest,  231 

Salt-  Water  Ballads  and  Lyrics,  586 

Samson  Agonistes  (ag-o-nis'tez),  218 

Sartor  Resartus  (sar'tor  re-sar'tus), 
527,  528,  535 

Satire,  260  ;  of  Swift,  274  ;  of  Thack- 
eray, 503 

Saxon.    See  Anglo-Saxon 

School  of  Shooting,  92 

Science  in  Victorian  Age,  558,  560 

Scop,  or  poet  (skop),  20 


6o8 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


Scott,  Walter,  395  ;  life,  396 ;  poetry, 
401  ;  novels,  402  ;  criticism  of  Jane 
Austen,  439 

Scottish  Chiefs,  375 

Scyld  (skild),  story  of,  10 

Sea,  names  of,  in  Anglo-Saxon,  25 

Seafarer,  The,  20 

Seasons,  The,  333 

Selections  for  reading :  Anglo-Saxon 
period,  43 ;  Norman,  64 ;  Chaucer, 
86 ;  Revival  of  Learning,  97  ;  Eliza- 
bethan, 1 80;  Puritan,  233  ;  Restora- 
tion, 256;  Eighteenth  Century,  359; 
Romanticism,  443  ;  Victorian,  561 

Sentimental  Journey,  356 

Sentimental  Tommy,  583 

Septimus,  582 

Sesame  and  Lilies  (ses'a-me),  541 

Shadowy  Waters,  588 

Shakespeare,  137;  life,  139;  works, 
148;  four  periods,  149;  sources  of 
plays,  1 50 ;  classification  of  plays, 
151;  doubtful  plays,  152;  poems, 
152;  place  and  influence,  153 

She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  315 

Shelley,  410;  life,  412;  works,  415; 
compared  with  Wordsworth,  417 

Shepherds'  Book,  41 

Shepherd's  Calendar,  108,  109 

Sherlock  Holmes,  583 

Sherwood,  586 

Ship  that  Found  Herself,  The,  574 

Shirley,  James,  166 

Shoemaker's  Holiday,  The,  165 

Short  View  of  the  English  Stage,  239 

Sidney,  Philip,  113,  175 

Sigurd  the  Volsung,  485 

Silas  Marner,  511 

Silent  Woman,  The,  161 

Sinclair,  May,  584 

Sir  Charles  Grandison,  352 

Skelton,  John,  122 

Sketches  by  Boz,  489 

Smollett,  Tobias,  355 

Social  development  in  eighteenth 
century,  258 

Sohrab  and  Rustum  (soo'rhab,  or 
so'hrab),  548 

Soldiers  Three,  574 

Song  of  the  Soldier,  591 

Songs  of  Innocence,  and  Songs  of  Ex- 
perience, 331 

Sonnet,  introduction  of,  95 

Sonnets,  of  Shakespeare,  153;  of  Mil- 
ton, 212 


Sonnets  from  the  Portugttese,  472,  482, 

484    " 

Southey,  393  ;  works,  394 
Spanish  Gypsy,  507 
Spanish  Tragedy,  131 
Specimens  of  English  Dramatic  Poets, 

43° 

Spectator,  The,  279,  284,  344 
Spenser,  101 ;   life,  102;  works,  105; 

characteristics,  1 10 ;  compared  with 

Chaucer,  no 
Spenserian  poets,  192 
Spenserian  stanza,  107 
Stage,  early,  119;   Elizabethan,  129 
Stalky  and  Co,,  571,  574 
Steele,  Richard, 
Stephen,  Leslie, 
Sterne,  Lawrence,  356 
Stevenson,  Robert  Louis,  519 
Style,  a  test  of  literature,  6 
Suckling,  John,  201 
Surrey,  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of,  95 
Swan,  The,  37 
Swift,   270;    life,   271;    works,    273; 

satire,  274  ;  characteristics,  277 
Swinburne,  485 
Sylva,  253 
Symbolists,  586 

Symonds,  John  Addington,  558 
Synge,  John  Millington,  588 

Tabard  Inn,  75 

Tale  of  a  Tub,  271,  273,  275 

Tale  of  Two  Cities,  A,  495 

Tales  from  Shakespeare,  429 

Tales  in  Verse,  334 

Tales  of  the  Hall,  334 

Tales  of  the  Mermaid  Tavern,  586 

Tarn  o'  Shanter,  328 

Tamburlaine  (tam'bur-lane),  132,  133 

Task,  The,  318,  319 

Toiler,  The,  279,  284,  344 

Taylor,  Jeremy,  230 

Temora,  (te-md'ra),  335 

Tempest,  The,  147 

Temple,  The,  198 

Tennyson,  457  ;  life,  458;  works,  462; 

characteristics,  467  ;  message,  468 
Tenure  of  Kings  and  Magistrates,  206 
Terra,  253 

Tests  of  literature,  5 
Teufelsdroeckh  (toy'felz-druk),  535 
Thackeray,    496;     life,    497;    works, 

499 ;     characteristics,    503 ;     style, 

504 ;  and  Dickens,  496 


INDEX 


609 


Thaddeus  of  Warsaw,  375 
Thalaba  (tal-a'ba),  394 
Theater,  the  first,  128 
Thief  of  Virtue,  The,  580 
Thompson,  Francis,  587 
Thomson,  James,  332 
Three  Brothers,  The,  580 
Three  Wise  Men,  The,  582 
Through  the  Turf  Smoke,  588 
Thyrsis  (ther'sis),  549 
Timber,  162 
Tintern  Abbey,  376 

Tirocinium   (tl-ro-sin'i-um),  or  a   Re- 
view of  Schools,  317 
Tom  Jones,  354 

Tomb  of  his  Ancestors,  The,  574 
Tommy  and  Grizel,  583 
Tono-Bungay,  577 
Tories  and  Whigs,  238 
Totters  Miscellany,  94 
Townley  plays,  118 
Toxophilus  (tok-sof  Mus),  92 
Tractarian  movement,  554 
Tracts  for  the  Times,  554 
Tragedy,  definition,  151  ;  of  blood,  136 
Transition  poets,  190 
Traveller,  The,  313,  314 
Treasure  Island,  519 
Treatises  on  Government,  252 
Tristram  Shandy,  356 
Tro'ilus  and  Cres'sida,  73 
Trollope,  Anthony,  513 
Troyes,  Treaty  of,  89 
Truce  of  the  Bear,  The,  573 
Tntth,  or  Good  Counsel,  72 
Tyndale,  William  (tin'dal),  94 
Typhoon,  578 

Udall,  Nicholas  (u'dal),  123 
Udolpho  (u-dol'fo),  374 
Unfortunate  Traveller,  The,  343 
Universality  a  test  of  literature,  5 
University  wits,  127 
Unto   This  Last,  540,  542 
Utopia,  93,  342 

Vanity  Fair,  501 

Vanity  of  Human  Wishes,  288 

Vaughan,  Henry,  193 

Vercelli  Book,  39 

Vicar  of  Wake  fie  Id,  315,  357 

Vice,  the,  in  old  plays,  121 

Victorian  Age,  452;  history,  453; 
literary  characteristics,  454  ;  poets, 
457 ;  novelists,  487  ;  essayists,  etc., 


520  ;  spirit  of,  559  ;  summary,  560 ; 
selections  for  reading,  561  ;  bibli- 
ography, 562 ;  questions,  566 ; 
chronology,  568 

Victory,  578 

View  of  the  State  of  Ireland,  103 

Village,  The,  333 

Vision  of  the  Rood,  38 

Volpone  (vol-po'ne),  160 

Volunteer,  The,  592 

Voyages,  Hakluyt's,  178 

Wakefield  plays,  118 

Waldere  (val-da're,  0rval'dare),  22 

Waller,  Edmund,  193,  242 

Walton,  Izaak,  231 

Wanderings  of  Oisin,  The,  588 

War  and  the  Future,  The,  590 

War  of  the  Worlds,  The,  577 

Ward,  Mrs.  Humphry,  581 

Watson,  William,  591 

Waverley,  398 

Way  of  All  Flesh,  The,  579 

Wealth  of  Nations,  371 

Weather,  The  Play  of  the,  123 

Webster,  John,  163 

Wedmore,  Treaty  of,  40 

Wells,  Herbert  G.,  576,  591 

Westward  Ho!  516 

Wheels  of  Chance,  The,  577 

Whigs  and  Tories,  238 

Whitby  (hwit'bi),  32,  33 

Widecombe  Fair,  580 

Widow  in  the  Bye  Street,  The,  585 

Widsith  (vid'sith),  18,  19 

Wiglaf  (vig'laf),  15 

Willcocks,  Mary,  584 

Wilson,  John  (Christopher  North),  375 

Wind  among  the  Reeds,  The,  588 

Windo^l}  in  Thrums,  A,  582 

Wither,  George,  192 

Withoiit  Benefit  of  Clergy,  574 

Women  in  literature,  373,  374 

Wordsworth,    373,    376;     life,    377; 

poetry,  381  ;  poems  of  nature,  382  ; 

poems  of  life,  384  ;  last  works,  386 
Wordsworth,  Dorothy,  376 
Worthies  of  England,  229,  230 
Wuthering  Heights  (wuth'er-ing),  514 
Wyatt  (wi'at),  Thomas,  94 
Wyclif  (wik'lif),  83 
Wyrd  (vird),  or  fate,  12 

Yeats,  William  Butler,  588 
York  plays,  118 


UNIVERS1 


>ITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


OCT   171947 


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NOV  2  »  1962 
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